


Falling deep

by writingforfun18



Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 104,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23899069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingforfun18/pseuds/writingforfun18
Summary: Jay's lost. He and Hailey are still new to each other when a case comes along that gives Jay a reason to focus but threatens to send him spiralling while Hailey tries to help him, tries to keep sight of him.Set in early season 5 post 5x01.
Relationships: Jay Halstead & Hailey Upton, Jay Halstead/Hailey Upton
Comments: 31
Kudos: 149





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this story on my mind for ages. For context, this story is set in season 5, not long after 5.01, though 5x01 is set slightly later in the year just for this fic. I intend to update once a week (maybe twice if my impulse control is poor), will also keep updating cross my heart too. 
> 
> Ratings may change. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Big thanks to nons for everything and to belle too. Any errors etc down to me. x (posted on ffnet too).

The fine rain hasn't stopped for hours, the cold is frigid. The wind whistles between the disused factories. Distant lighting reflects against the puddles, and a rat scurries between the abandoned buildings.

Till it pauses, making a small diversion as it sees the body and slowly approaches it from a few metres away, sniffing at the ground, the smell changing slightly as it nears the body. A metallic smell rather than rainfall.

The body is clothed in expensive quality clothes now sodden with rain. The body is face down, eyes closed, the hands unmoving, fingertips stained with blood.

The rat sniffs at the ground more and moves along next to the body until its level with a hand. The rat's hungry. Food is scarce when you're one of many others scavenging in a desperate quest for something to eat.

It opens its mouth and lowers it toward the fingertips, finally some food and only this rat so far aware of the rich feast they're about to begin.

The movement is minute, perhaps just a muscle reflex in someone close to death or even past death, but it serves enough to startle the rat and it moves away till it pauses and looks back watching the body before closing in on it again when there's no other sign of movement.

This time as its teeth attempt to break the skin, ready to gnaw its way through skin and bone, the body moves again followed by a quiet desperate groan though the rat barely hears the noise as it scurries away and into the night.

Leaving the body where it lies, still except for the faintest of movements as the chest rises and falls far slower than it should and the slightest of sounds, as one eye tries to open but it's too bruised and swollen, that's lost even in the vast emptiness of where it, or rather, he lies.

"Hailey."

A sound that's lost as it's captured within the sound of the wind and no one replies and no one's coming.

If the man has any conscious thought, he'd realize that. It's as much reflex, the natural reflex of what could be a dying man, to call for her as it is breathing.

Except Jay Halstead's not dying, he's not, from somewhere within he resolves that today isn't that day for him and he could never give up hope in her, not after all that's been. Not now. Even when he has no right to have hope at all. When he's almost forgotten what hope is.

He shuts his eyes while he waits, it's just resting them, that's all.

\- - - - 

**_3 months earlier_ **

Jay stares at his phone, not even sure what he's looking for when an arm nudges his own and he looks up to see a bottle appear on the bar in front of him, next to the barely touched bottle he's not even looked at for over ten minutes.

"I know you've barely touched the first bottle yet, but I needed an excuse to come over. To check you're okay," Hailey explains, a half-smile mingling with the barely disguised concern.

Jay opens his mouth to tell her he's okay, but she cuts in.

"I know. I know you're okay. And even if you weren't you wouldn't tell your still kinda new partner anyway, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to let you know people are concerned. Not just me, _them_ ," she jerks her thumb behind her and Jay turns slightly.

Sees the way the group behind them sitting at 2 tables look away in an almost comical way in different directions at Jay's glance. They're all terrible at it which is some kind of funny given their occupation. He feels the somewhat unfamiliar lately feeling of a smile on his face and nods, taking hold of the newest bottle before he looks at Hailey for a moment.

"I _am_ ok."

She smiles, though not unkindly, and leans in towards him, lowering her voice. "Okay well, Adam owes me another drink. I said it'd be the first thing you said, and he said you'd just glower at me and not say a thing."

"I'm _that_ predictable?"

She gives him a look and then taps his arm, "Come on over, talking helps you know especially when it's unrelated to the stuff that's keeping you up at night. Trust me."

She's gone before Jay can respond or even ask what she means, even though where he's concerned at least, he knows what she's getting at.

Jay sighs, sliding off the stool ready to follow her, his hand reaching for the bottle but there's a peel of laughter and he glances at the group again, no one looking over at him aside from Hailey and he swallows, nods at nothing and without sparing another glance at anything other than the door, he walks toward it and steps outside feeling nothing but relief that he's outside, alone again.

All the way to the truck that he'd half expected earlier to have to leave here overnight. He thinks Hailey will follow him. To cajole him back into Molly's. The only surprise is that when it doesn't happen, there's this tiny part of him that's disappointed.

\- - - -

Jay barely sleeps. What sleep he has brings nightmare upon nightmare. Most of it is unintelligible. Most of it he forgets as soon as he wakes but it leaves him restless, unhappy.

He's almost forgotten what it feels like to be happy, and even the one thing that brought him stability: the job, feels like it's been knocked sideways of late.

Still, rather than lie in bed staring at the ceiling, Jay stumbles out of bed at just after 5am, stares at the TV screen till it's gone 6am and by 7am, he's out of his place and in his truck driving around till it's an acceptable time to go in without it raising questions he's not in any mood to answer.

He hears the call for a body found by the tennis courts by Sheridan Park and it's nothing out of of the ordinary but it's something to do now even when Homicide arrive and take over, even if they're already there, it's something to focus on and he's saying he's on his way and pulling up on South May Street a few minutes later before he even properly registers he's doing it.

The body lies between two dumpsters opposite the tennis courts. Two beat cops are there interviewing a man Jay presumes is the person who found them. An elderly guy who looks gray with shock.

Jay approaches the body that's face down on the ground. He reaches for his gloves and puts them on as he crouches down while one of the beat cops nears him.

"The guy who found him lives real close by, heard nothing aside from a car pull up at just after 4am, they were playing music and he remembered waking up. Said he heard nothing except raised voices till there was a squeal of tyres as the car pulled away again two minutes later. He came out for his early morning walk and found the body."

Jay nods as he looks at the body. The man's face is looking towards Jay, there's bruising Jay can see around the closed eyes and dried blood around his nose, his fingertips are stained with blood on the hand that's by his face. The clothes are good quality. Just dirtied from where the body lies now.

Jay stands up.

"Any ID?"

The cop nods and hands him a wallet that Jay opens and pulls out a credit card.

David Anthony Flynn.

Jay frowns as he sees 2 one hundred-dollar bills. Not a robbery then and then pulls out the photograph in between the bills.

A bunch of guys, not just any bunch of guys. Army guys. Ranger uniforms. He swallows reflexively.

"Anyone done the notification yet?"

"No."

Jay nods, "I-we'll take care of it." In his mind, he's already mentally preparing for the battle with Homicide and Voight too for that matter for intelligence to take this case.

Not just because David Flynn was a Ranger, but something more. Call it intuition, call it a need to have something to focus on when he's been second guessing himself since Morgan Williams.

Whatever it is, he needs it and he's not about to let it slide or let anyone else deal with it, even if it's quick, even if it's cut and dried.

Thirty minutes later and Jay's in the bullpen, tapping away at the computer when Voight arrives.

"Sarge," he stands up as Voight continues into his office and follows the older man in, "Sarge, I was on my way in and I-."

"David Flynn, right?"

Jay narrows his eyes in confusion, "How did you?"

Voight turns around from hanging up his jacket to face Jay, "Got a call from homicide asking why intelligence was treading on one of their cases. Said they'd take the notification. I told them that my detectives know what they're doing, now you tell me what you were doing so I can call them and let them know that we're taking the case from them."

"David Flynn was a Ranger," Jay begins, expecting Voight to raise his eyebrows, to grunt in that familiar way perhaps and give him some kind of look that he understands Jay and his interest but that ultimately it's not enough. It doesn't happen though. Voight sits down, impassive as he looks up at Jay, "There's nothing to show why he was murdered. He's got no rap sheet. He was working a normal job, a delivery driver since he got out. There's nothing anywhere to show why a guy liked David Flynn ended up face down in an alley twelve miles from where he lived."

Voight nods slowly, "Jay, I understand this hits heavier with you than most things but I need more otherwise it's all homicide, you know that right?"

Jay doesn't respond directly, just says. "At least let me and Upton do the notification?"

There's more than a hint of pleading in Jay's voice and he realizes he doesn't care and thankfully there's no argument, just a slight nod and Jay murmurs his thanks as he steps out of Voight's office, into the bullpen, picking up his cell and jacket and messaging Hailey to let her know he'll pick her up on the way.

\- - - - 

On Hailey's first day on the job, her sergeant had assigned her a notification. It's a rite of passage every cop goes through. She thinks she could do one every single day and be certain about the right way to tell someone a loved one was dead and it would still be the hardest, most unpredictable aspect of the job.

They do the first notification less in Intelligence, but sometimes needs must. Except even from the short explanation from Jay as he'd picked her up on the way, she's at something of a loss why they're doing this one.

They arrive on a quiet street in Edgewater. The house is painted red on the outside with 2 chairs on the front porch and hanging baskets either side of the door with plants in front of the chairs too.

Hailey exchanges a glance with Jay, who clears his throat and then leans forward to press the bell.

It only takes a few seconds for someone to approach the front door, a woman who smiles as she opens the door and the smile stays in place until she takes in the sober expressions on Hailey and Jay's faces and sees their badges.

The lady is small, shorter than Hailey, slender and with immaculately groomed grey hair.

"Mrs Flynn? Mother of David Anthony Flynn?" Jay starts, waiting for the woman to nod or show some sign of acknowledgement and at her slow nod, he continues, "I'm Detective Halstead, this is Detective Upton, could we come in?"

Even as she nods, she's pushing the door to close it rather than opening it to allow them in and she calls out, "Steven, the police are here," fear showing in the way her voice trembles.

They can hear footsteps coming down stairs which get louder until Steven Flynn appears behind his wife, the same obvious fear etched on his features even as he opens the door wider, places a gentle hand on his wife's shoulder and murmurs, "It's okay Helen, I'm here."

Steven Flynn is tall. Imposing, or at least he could be, but there's a warmth in his brown eyes even as he looks fearful.

The house on the inside isn't just a house, it's a home. It smells of baking, home baking. Bread and coffee too. The walls are covered with pictures, drawings and photographs, some black and white, some newer. The photographs are of a family, mostly.

In the living room, on the mantel, there's another family photograph. 4 people, 2 children and 2 adults. Jay and Hailey exchange a quick glance even as Helen Flynn talks nervously, quickly, as though she's so desperate to not stop talking because if she stops talking, Hailey and Jay will start and it feels like she and her husband already know what they will be told. If she keeps talking, it delays the inevitable.

"I can get you something to drink or eat? We love to have cake though it's too early but oh what am I saying, it's never too early for cake right Steven?"

Steven Flynn gently lays his hand on his wife's knee, whispers something in her ear that neither Jay nor Hailey hear and Helen flinches, almost loses her composure before she bites her lip, shuts her eyes briefly and exhales then opens her eyes and nods.

Jay opens his mouth to start, but Steven Flynn interrupts.

"How did he die? That's what you're here to tell us, right? That David is dead, so how did he die?"

Few things surprise Hailey, she knows Jay is the same. She knows this. They've each had screaming, they've had crying, they've had silence, they've had times that they've had to repeat over and over till they're sure it's registered with the person; the family left behind.

Nothing like this though, at least not for Hailey, this quiet acceptance and acknowledgement instantly from David's father at least.

"We'll find out soon and as soon as we know we'll tell you," Jay answers.

"The autopsy, right? Thank you," Steven replies as Helen stands up, straightening her skirt and crosses over to the mantel picking up the picture, her fingers trembling as she does and then walks to where Hailey's sitting, handing her the picture.

"That picture's from twelve years ago. David was sixteen, that's Ella, she was twelve, she died 6 months later of leukemia. Now they're both gone."

"We're so sorry Mrs Flynn," Hailey looks up towards the older woman who shows no sign of having heard, staring at the picture instead, her hand reaching for it like it's a lifeline.

"I'm going to make some coffee," Steven says as he stands and walks toward the kitchen. Hailey and Jay exchange a glance and Jay nods as he stands up too and follows him to the kitchen.

The older man doesn't turn around when Jay walks in, he's facing away from Jay, his hands clutching onto the counter, his head bowed.

"David was our lifeline when Ella died. Our rock, he almost didn't serve even though it was what he always wanted. Helen was so scared we'd lose him too but I convinced her we couldn't stand in his way," Steven turns around then, "Did you ever serve, Detective?"

Jay nods, "Rangers."

There's a ghost of a smile that appears for a second, "I figured. Iraq or Afghanistan?"

"Afghanistan."

"David served in Iraq. Two tours. He was different after the second one in particular, came home and lived with us and he was so different. Quieter. Didn't laugh as much as he used to. He used to stay up all night, and he'd only go to sleep if he ever slept when we were out. He moved out after he had one particularly bad nightmare that we heard the tail end of even though we tried to get him to stay, tried to help him, he just didn't want to burden us I guess."

Jay nods, the similarity stark even though for Jay it was Afghanistan, even though Jay's older. It's all so similar, but he doesn't have time to dwell on it now. There's a reason they're here and a tangible way Jay and Intelligence or CPD at least can help.

"Mr Flynn, can you think of anyone who'd want to kill David or any reason they would kill him?"

The older man shakes his head, scraping a hand through his hair, rubbing at his chin with his other hand before he pauses, his gaze resting on Jay.

"Maybe this is something or maybe it's nothing but after David moved out, for a while things I think were still difficult but then suddenly it changed. He got happier, he came by two or three times a week, he was open. He was talking about going to college, becoming a teacher or something like that. He was even talking about finding a girl and I kept asking him what had changed and he said he'd found some guys who knew what he'd been through, that he could be honest with. Some kind of bar he went to. He said they'd saved his life, and I was so happy, we both were. He was more like the David he used to be."

Jay watches as Steven's expression changes from one of happy remembrance to a frown to worse. Fear, maybe.

"It changed almost overnight back to a place or even lower than when he first came back the second time. He stopped coming by and when me or Helen tried to call, he would cut us off so fast. Last time I saw him was ten days ago, I stopped by his apartment and he was so jumpy, scared and jumpy. Said it was a mistake for me to be there, he didn't want me to be a part of it. Collateral damage or something like that. I tried to tell him to speak to the guys at the bar and he laughed but it was almost hysterical, you know?"

"You think the bar had something to do with it?"

"I dunno. I just," the words die on his lips and he looks out towards the yard, shaking his head, "You know, I just don't think or see how we can ever get over this. This family ends with us now, how are we supposed to overcome this?"

Jay takes a step closer. The urge to promise everything so strong. Except making promises is foolish, you make them and within a day or two they're broken and what if that happens? Except maybe it's the difference between Steven and Helen Flynn having something to live for, even if that something is just the wait for justice.

"I promise you we'll find out who did this, Mr. Flynn. I promise." Turns out it's easy to make the promise.

"I believe you, Detective."

"Jay, it's Jay, sir."

Steven nods, murmuring a quiet thanks before looking away and out of the window again.

"Mr Flynn, just one more thing, do you know the name of this bar?"

\- - - -

Hours later and Jay stares at the computer screen in front of him, rubbing his head as a headache looms.

"Jay. Hailey," Voight calls from behind him and Jay looks around towards their boss who gestures for them to come into his office and they exchange a glance as Jay follows Hailey in.

"Got anything more on the bar?" Voight asks.

Hailey shakes her head, "It's like looking for a needle in a haystack, Sarge, looking for a bar downtown that Mr. Flynn can't remember the name of and very few would advertise that they've got support groups running from them or not obviously anyway."

Voight grunts, "Hmm, okay, Jay, you got anything else?"

Reluctantly Jay shakes his head, "We just have to find the name Sarge, I think as soon as we find the name, we'll see things happen. We just need time."

The older man stares at Jay for a moment then leans forward, clasping his hands together.

"Jay, I get why you want this. I get why it hits you harder than it does any of the rest of us. It's that connection and not only that after the little girl, you need this. You need something except I got homicide in my ear and it doesn't matter how much I want to say yes to this for your sake, I need something solid and I need it by the morning otherwise homicide will take this back and there's nothing I'll be able to do to stop it."

Jay doesn't respond at first.

"Halstead?"

Jay nods, "Yeah, so I'll just make sure I find what we need, Sarge, I'll find it," then he walks out the office and into the bullpen without another word.

Hailey shrugs at Voight's look at her.

"I guess I'll go help."

\- - - -

Hailey helps, but also she watches Jay. Jay, who's practically oblivious to anything other than what's on his screen. Rejecting any attempts from anyone else at conversation.

She watches all his micro expressions, the little flickers of stress that he probably doesn't even realize he's showing.

Day turns into early evening, and soon it's just the two of them. Voight left twenty minutes ago, giving Jay a loaded look and shaking his head behind Jay at Hailey.

Everything hinges on information they don't have. Information that's likely so tantalizingly close but out of reach all the same. Hailey knows what it's like to have such a need for something, a lucky break of some kind to be that key breakthrough in a case. That thirst for justice, that need and desire to make things right.

She barely knows Jay, she's not even scratched the surface really and yet there's enough that she sees in him that knows what feels like his current distrust of her is worth persevering with, it's worth pushing against and proving to him she _will_ be the best partner he's ever had.

It's late though and maybe this case isn't destined to be the one where she proves it or starts to, anyway. She yawns again for the third in as many minutes and looks at the time on her monitor. 9.57pm.

Vaguely she realizes Jay's been working for almost fifteen hours, likely longer, and while she knows he's had worse days and longer still days too, he needs sleep and so does she.

She stands up yawning another time and reaches for her jacket, seeing the fraction of a second of disappointment on his face he can't disguise as she puts the jacket on and pulls her hair into a ponytail.

"Jay, come on, we could make a start early in the morning or maybe we just let homicide take care of it."

"I made a promise," Jay replies abruptly.

"Does it matter who takes the case as long as we get the people who do this?"

Jay looks away from his screen and fixes her with a look, "It matters to me."

And there it is. Hailey expects Jay to look away immediately, to distract her with something else, some other words, something flippant perhaps because perish the thought he shows vulnerability or admits the real reason for all this or at least the partial reason.

A million and one responses mostly focused on how he needs to let go of what happened to Morgan and his part in it almost spill from her lips but something stops her, not least this need to know herself what happened to David Flynn.

This need to support her partner too, to prove to him he can trust her, that she'll do whatever it takes even if it's ultimately in vain.

Hailey blows out a breath, shrugging the jacket off and placing it on the back of the chair again.

"Ok, so I'm done with the list I was looking at, where do you want me to look next, oh wait, hold that thought because if we're pulling an all-nighter, the least you owe me is a deep dish, right?"

Jay doesn't respond at first, just watches her before a quiet small smile appears across his features and he nods, "I think I can agree to that," then he looks down at the list he'd made and tears it into two and hands her the list across their two desks.

"Okay, let's do this," Hailey says to the bullpen, warming ever so slightly at the faintly amused expression on Jay's face that gives away quickly to serious focus on one thing only.

The key that can unlock whatever happened to David Flynn.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you my impulse control was not great! Big thanks to nons for your encouragement and thanks to you all for the kudos and everything for the 1st chapter xx
> 
> Any mistakes as always down to me. x

Hailey had left Jay still working in the bullpen around 3am, even though she'd tried to convince him to leave with her. Something in his expression told her she needed to back off, so she had.

It's 8.30am now, and she managed 4 hours of sleep. Her eyes are tired, she feels vaguely irritable, like something's scratching underneath her skin.

There's no sign of life. She'd half expected him to be still tapping away at his keyboard. It could be a good sign. Perhaps he found evidence or the name of the bar.

She places the coffee cup down and walks toward the kitchen, Tupperware container filled with salad in her hand wondering if today's the day she'll get the chance to eat it, stopping in the doorway when she sees Jay lying on the couch. He looks younger when he's asleep; Or did till his face screws up slightly, and he mumbles.

Hailey considers waking him but decides against it, It feels like she's intruding so she backs away out the door after quickly putting her food in the fridge, picking up the empty pizza box on the table still there from last night, putting it in the trashcan and goes back to her desk turning the computer and monitor on, stretching before sitting down.

There's no sign at all that Jay got anywhere further in the time after she left and he won't thank her if there's time lost this morning she knows and that's what makes her mind up as she pushes the chair back and stands up, walking toward the kitchen and almost colliding with one tired, rumpled looking Jay Halstead as he rubs at his eyes, sniffs at his clothes and yawns loudly stepping out of the kitchen into the bullpen.

Jay steps back and his eyes almost bug out as he takes in Hailey and looks at his watch.

"You're early."

Hailey fixes him with a pointed stare and his eyes lower before he replies defensively, "I didn't see the point in heading home. I don't want to give up on this case."

He walks past her and sits down, rubbing at his face again before he blows out a breath, turning towards Hailey, a confused and dejected expression on his face.

"I don't understand what we're missing, you know? How hard can it be to find a bar? Is it some kind of ghost bar? Or perhaps Mr Flynn was wrong about it. What if the bar's in another part of the city altogether?"

"You got any contacts from your time in The Rangers? Could be that someone knows something?"

Jay pulls his cell from his pocket, flashing a grim smile, "Already ahead of you. I messaged a few people earlier knowing they'd keep military time and," he swipes at his phone, looking up and frowning, "4 out of 4 and guess what none of them know a thing."

"So we hit up CIs? Do some canvassing?" Hailey suggests and Jay shrugs, mouthing 'Yeah'.

She gets why Jay's losing hope, but it's too early to give up. Voight's not even here yet, not chasing them for developments. He drops his phone onto the desk and leans back in his chair, shaking his head, not looking at her.

"Okay but what if it wasn't murder? What if he fell and the guy who found him was right and there was a car that pulled up except what if it was unconnected?"

"What if it was?"

He eyes her, "Why are you backing me on this?"

Hailey shrugs, "We're partners and if you're telling me something feels off, I say we roll with it until we either have it taken away from us because homicide wants it or there's nothing to investigate or maybe it'll be the final option."

"Which is?"

"David Flynn got in with bad people; they murdered him and we'll be the ones to get his killers as you promised his parents we would."

"You make it sound so simple," Jay remarks with a skeptical expression.

"It isn't but what we do is what we always do and well which is that we keep looking."

So they do. They hit up old contacts and after a couple of hours, there's a CI, one of Hailey's they're about to go see. All the while Jay has made phone call after phone call sighing in frustration each time the outcome is fruitless.

Time's their enemy now and sooner rather than later Voight _will_ arrive and with his arrival unless something changes will see the case falling from the precarious hold they have on it now and into someone else's hands.

Someone that Hailey knows Jay reckons won't care as much. Certainly won't need this as much as Jay does.

They're reaching for their jackets, hoping that Hailey's CI can summon up a miracle when they hear footsteps thudding up the stairs and two familiar faces appear.

"Still looking for the name of that bar, bro?"

Jay's got one arm in his jacket when he freezes at Kev's words, "Yeah."

Adam grins, walking toward Jay and whirling around his back to Voight's office, "Not anymore you're not, we got you" he says as he hands a piece of paper to Jay with a flourish.

"Got a CI who knows a lot of bars. Used to run inspections on them till they realized he was taking too much off the top and he spent time at County. Anyway, he kept all his contacts, and I called him when Hailey messaged me we got nothing overnight. Within 5 minutes he was calling to meet."

Jay scans the paper as Adam continues.

"The bar's not that far from where David Flynn's body was found."

"Roosevelt Road?"

"Yeah, near the South Loop." Kevin replies as Jay looks up and nods, handing the paper to Hailey.

"So, how do we know this Brian's place _is_ the place?" Hailey asks as she reads the name.

"CI, Karl, is ex army too," Adam explains, "He hears about all the new places anyway and he heard about this bar before so he put two and two together, said there was no other place in the city that he could think of immediately that'd fit and it's not too far from where they found Flynn makes it fit even more."

"Still, how would he know?" Hailey shakes her head, it's not enough.

"The guy who runs the place. Peter Barnet. He's ex army also, and he's known to my CI. Got priors too according to my CI. He knew him while he was in County."

"How the hell's he running the place?" Jay questions.

"He's not," Kevin says as he steps forward, standing next to Hailey. "Someone else owns it as far as the city's concerned."

Adam nods, "Oh yeah, and one last thing. Karl said there was a guy, Eddie Stapleton, who apparently worked at the bar till he disappeared."

Hailey and Jay exchange a glance before Jay sits down and taps away at his keyboard.

"Eddie Stapleton?"

At Atwater and Ruzek's nods, he hits enter and leans in closer, shaking his head at what he sees when he does.

"Ex-army too. Thirty-eight years old, has a partner and 3 kids. Disappeared exactly 3 months ago."

"Dangerous place to work or be a regular at," Kevin comments.

"So we're close but not close enough for us to take this from homicide?"

They all turn round at Voight's voice, he's arrived the back way to the bullpen and is leaning against the doorway to the kitchen.

"Sarge, you gotta admit this looks bad." Jay says, standing up and gesturing toward his computer.

Voight nods.

"It's more than we had. A lot more but we still need a little more so you and Hailey go to the morgue, find out how David Flynn died. We'll have Burgess and Antonio go see Eddie Stapleton's family," Voight pauses before pointing at Kevin and Adam, he adds, "And you two, dig deeper into Peter Barnet, the bar and see what we can learn. We'll see where we stand after that. I'll stall homicide for a couple more hours."

"Copy that, Sarge," Kevin acknowledges as he walks back to his desk.

Hailey watches as Jay hesitates, looking like he wants to say more. Sensing the eagerness in him to go after Barnet now even though there's nothing at all yet to show he's someone capable of being involved in what may not even be a murder, priors or not. And people disappear too. All the time.

"Jay." she says. Firmly enough to draw his attention from pursuing whatever argument he was about to with Voight.

He flashes her a look that's part annoyance, part realization and the awareness that now really isn't the time and now is better spent getting the angle they need to find out how and why Kevin Flynn died so they can look Steven and Helen Flynn in the eyes again soon.

\- - - -

"Victim had small defensive wounds on his fingers, there were also abrasions on his wrists and his eyes were bruised and swollen, his nose had been knocked too but that could have been accidental. Aside from that, there was no obvious injury or cause of death that points to murder."

Jay looks at Hailey quickly and back to the medical examiner before he turns his attention to the contents of the file he's holding, "Nothing at all?"

"Cause of death will go down as Ventricular fibrillation, a cardiac arrest," the medical examiner looks apologetic as she takes in Jay's obvious consternation.

Jay shakes his head and stares back at the file, flicking through the pages, searching for something. Anything.

Hailey's next to him, he doesn't believe she's looking. She's probably about to try to draw him away from here. Onto another case. Her hand touches his arm though at that moment and she reaches for the file which he hands over, curious about what she's seen.

"It says here about something you found above his eyes?" Hailey asks the medical examiner who turns away from her computer and nods, walking past them both and back toward David Flynn's body, pulling the sheet back.

"Yeah, above both eyes, like a glue substance. Strange."

Jay steps closer to the body, thoughts running fast through his head. "Doc, humor me here. Could a guy his age, served in Iraq on 2 tours, have died of fright? Is it possible that something or someone scared him to death?"

He senses Hailey's eyes on him for a second before she focuses her attention on the Medical Examiner. He can almost hear the wheels turning in her brain, catching up to Jay's train of thought.

"And could that glue substance have been tape to keep his eyes open?"

Jay returns her look and nods at her, thankful that her question shows it's not only him.

The medical examiner immediately nods. "Quick answer, yes. If a person's body becomes overwhelmed with adrenaline. It doesn't matter how many tours you completed, it can kill and actually it fits with the amount of calcium we discovered. It's definitely possible and yes, the glue could well have been tape."

Jay feels grim satisfaction, and he hands the file back to the medical examiner "Thanks, doc," not waiting for a response as he follows Hailey out of the morgue and outside shaking his head and releasing a breath as they walk to the truck.

"I was convinced we weren't getting anywhere."

"Me either."

As they reach the truck, Jay stops and looks at Hailey over the bonnet, "Thanks, you know, for encouraging me to stick with it and for being on the same thought process in there," he gestures back toward the morgue.

"Like I said, Jay, we're partners. You got a sense for something, it's part of the deal for me to get there fast and back you up, especially when I've agreed from the start that nothing about David Flynn's death was ordinary or was an ordinary sudden."

Jay favors her with a half smile, tapping the bonnet lightly before he opens the driver's side of the truck and gets in as Hailey does on her side.

He's starting the truck when she speaks again.

"You could probably use a change of clothes by the way Jay, and maybe a shower. You look like crap."

He flashes a look at her, shakes his head and mutters, "Okay, thanks mom."

Pleased when he can sense her smile and more relieved than he's felt in days at the progress they've made in the last couple of hours, eager to find out how Kim and Antonio got on and whether Ruz and Kev have gotten anywhere with Barnet and the bar.

Confident that they're starting to form enough evidence to not only take the case from Homicide but also an idea formulating in his mind for how they'll move it on.

A change of clothes and sleep can wait.

\- - - -

If Jay won't go home for a shower, Hailey at least insists that they grab a coffee before they walk up to the bullpen.

"It's on me," she says as Jay orders a coffee for him, ordering her own and handing over the money to the server in the van.

"Black, neat?"

"Anything else destroys the flavor, the whole point of having coffee."

"Oh god, a coffee snob," Jay teases as he takes the two coffee cups, handing Hailey's to her.

"A wide awake coffee snob, Halstead, don't knock it." she catches his eye as they cross the street, grinning as they walk up the steps into the 21st and up again to the bullpen.

The board is out now and Adam and Kev have started to put information on there, though for now only a picture of David Flynn, the name of the bar and a picture of who Hailey presumes is Peter Barnet.

In the bullpen, Olinsky sits on the edge of Ruzek's desk, an impassive expression on his face as he watches the younger guys populate the board.

Antonio and Kim walk out of the kitchen together and nod at Jay and Haily as they take their jackets off and put them on the back of their chairs and turn around, walking nearer to the board as Voight comes out from his office and says.

"Ok, so what have we got? Hailey? Jay?"

Hailey nods at Jay as she takes a sip of her drink and Jay takes front and center.

"At first it seemed like it was a whole of nothing aside from small defensive wounds and the bruising around his eyes and blood near his nose but the medical examiner agreed combined with other factors that David Flynn's cause of death was a cardiac arrest. We think and the Medical Examiner agreed it's possible, even likely that he died of fright."

Ruzek tilts his head to one side, leaning further forward.

"Yeah and the other factor is that they found a glue like substance on his eyelids and above his eye consistent with tape. Someone wanted to make sure he had no choice to see something," Hailey concludes.

"Is that certain?" Voight questions.

"Short of being there, yeah, the M. E agreed that it's consistent with her examination."

"Ok, Kim, Antonio, what did Stapleton's partner say?"

Kim straightens from where she'd been sitting on the edge of her desk, everyone's attention switching to her., referring to her notebook as she talks.

"Amelia Fischer. Not married to Eddie, but they have 3 kids. She said Eddie seemed normal in the time leading up to his disappearance. A little stressed about money, but they always got by. Fast forward to the night before his disappearance, Amelia woke up to shouting outside. She looked out of the window and saw Eddie on his phone. She tried to talk to him about it but he said it was all okay, apologized for waking her and the next afternoon, he went to work or so she thought and never came home."

From behind where Hailey's stood, Antonio continues.

"Kim asked how she was doing for money now. Amelia said that Eddie's boss has been amazing. There for her and the kids, taking them all out."

"Barnet?" Kev asks.

"Yeah."

"As if he knows Eddie's not coming back," Jay suggests.

Antonio shrugs, "That's one way to look at it, yeah."

"Or if he's ex-army, it's the whole brotherhood and looking after the families of someone that's lost even if it's a temporary thing," Al observes.

"Possible too," Jay concedes.

"Anything else? Did she give off any sign at all that she knows more?" Voight queries.

"No," Kim starts but stops, shaking her head, "But, you know Sarge, everything about her, her demeanor I'd say that she has a crush on Barnet at the very least. Also, there were no pictures around of her and Eddie with the kids, only Amelia and the kids, and we asked who the guy was in one picture next to where she sat on the couch on a side table. I thought it was maybe her brother."

Kim walks to the board and points to the third photograph on it, "It was Peter Barnet."

Hailey observes the way Jay's eyebrows shoot upwards and down again quickly at the information. She feels a familiar burst of adrenaline that comes when things really begin to fall into place, even if it's only to give them the case.

"Ok, anything else?" Voight inquires.

"No, though Kim and I agreed we don't think she's particularly concerned about whether Eddie Stapleton comes back, as long as she gets her cash and Barnet plays Uncle Peter or whatever, she's down with it."

Voight nods then again toward Kevin who pushes away from his desk and towards the board, Kim moving away to the side.

"Adam's CI already told us Barnet is ex-army. In the Illinois National Guard, did two tours of Iraq. Came back in one piece but ended up in County within 9 months of his last tour. Attempted murder of his then partner, the same partner who spoke up in his defense along with a therapist he'd seen only 2 times at his trial so he only served 7 and a half years, released in early 2015 and disappeared off the grid."

Adam moves next to the other side of the board, gesturing toward the right of it.

"Till now. The bar which we know is called Brian's place. Owner is James Price. Ex-marine. No priors. So far so ordinary, right? Except we looked everywhere, all the socials. It's like Brian's place doesn't exist or not till the last couple of months anyway, but then we started seeing posts about another bar called The Cross. It looked like the same place, slightly different decor, and that's when we looked at the address." Adam nods at Kev.

"Same address, Sarge. Same interior, just a fresh sign and a new name. Same owner, too, Price. So we started looking deeper, we looked at other posts for the Cross and we started seeing 'Search for Anthony' and 'Memorial Fund for Craig Farmer' posts."

Kevin steps toward his desk, reaching for two fresh pictures, which he places on the board, gesturing at them in turn.

"Turns out whether it's called Brian's place or the Cross, it's an unlucky place to be. Craig Farmer died at the end of last year, just after Thanksgiving. They found his body on Ohio Street Beach, the day after he was reported missing by his wife. No obvious cause of death, but we're pulling the records to learn more," Kev gestures at the other picture. "Then Anthony Hunt disappeared after telling his best friend he was heading out to The Cross to talk to someone. Two last things. Neither of them worked at the bar. Both of them: ex-army."

Kev folds his arms, "That's it for what we found so far."

There's a loaded silence in the bullpen as everyone digests what each of them has brought to the table information wise, but all Hailey does is watch Jay.

As he steps up to the board and stares for long moments at each photograph lingering the longest on David Flynn before he turns away almost reluctantly and fixes his gaze on Voight who's not moved from his position.

Hailey's certain that the case is theirs to keep now at least. No way will Voight give it up. What's unpredictable now is Jay, what Intelligence does next and how Jay reacts to it.

Hailey believes she has the basic measure of Jay Halstead. Or thought she had till recently. Probably Jay himself doesn't know he'll react until he does.

"Sarge?" Jay says breaking the silence.

Voight grunts, "Okay," he steps toward the board, and then turns to face everyone, "We take this case."

Hailey doesn't have to wait long to see how Jay reacts.

"I'll be the one to go under right, it makes sense. I'm the only choice, right?"

Hailey catches the look that Voight shares with Olinsky. The minute shrug that Al sends Voight's way and the returning shake of the head from Voight. Hailey steels herself for what's coming.

"We survey. We observe. We do everything and I mean _everything_ by the book."

Everyone murmurs their assent. Everyone except Jay.

"Sarge, why? Why would we waste time if Steven Flynn is right; if all the evidence we're seeing is even halfway right, we'll find nothing we need until we have someone in there and that someone is me. Right Al? Right Antonio," then as neither man responds, he fixes a desperate look at Hailey, "Right, Hailey?"

Hailey shifts, about to respond, though how she'll respond, she's not even sure, but Voight cuts across her before she can reply.

"Not yet, Jay. Not yet. We spend the rest of today looking further into all those leads, we investigate Barnet and Price, we look at the autopsy report for Craig Famer; we check any footage we can for when the guy who found Flynn says he heard vehicles; we leave no stone unturned and we prepare for tomorrow and the coming days and we go in when it's right."

Then brokering no further argument even as Jay shakes his head and looks like he wants to punch something or cry or both out of frustration, Voight walks through the bullpen and into his office.

Hailey tries to catch Jay's eye. Tries to do it so she can talk to him somewhere, just them, and try to bring him back from the place he's stuck in but he won't meet her eye.

Instead, as everyone settles, as the tension dissipates slightly and everyone takes their seat or goes into the kitchen, Jay goes back to his desk too and sits.

Throwing occasional glances backward towards Voight's office, then he settles; even taps at his keyboard and appears to be looking at his screen till he shakes his head and Hailey can hear him mutter something like 'Screw this' as he stands up, pushing his chair back a little too hard for it to be a silent movement and walks into Voight's office with no invitation.

She follows him before she can stop herself.

\- - - -

Hailey feels the way the temperature feels like it's plummeted the second she steps into the office, closing the door behind her seeing Al just behind Voight sitting on the windowsill, expressionless even as Jay bristles and throws a glare at Hailey before he focuses on Voight.

"I don't get it. We won't get a single thing from surveying the place for 2 days or 2 weeks. And what if they get onto us? You know what these neighborhoods are like. They talk or they don't talk unless strangers suddenly start showing up and going into a place no one's seen them go into before. I'm Barnet's people. I'm the best tool we've got. Just let me go in."

There's more than a hint of pleading in Jay's voice.

"You finished?" Voight questions, though not unkindly.

Jay sags. If he wasn't in a room with a Sergeant and 2 other Detectives, maybe no one would have noticed.

"You _will_ be the best tool we got, Halstead, you will. Just not right now. We follow the book. Reform has changed everything and we need to do what we need to do in the right order particularly after what happened, you know that right?"

Hailey tenses.

"What do you mean after what happened?"

"You know what I mean.".

Jay brings his hands up toward his head and then throws them down again. "If you don't trust me Sarge, you could at least say it rather than pretending like it's out of concern for me or out of respect for reform or whatever crap you expect me to believe."

"Halstead," Voight's tone is laced with a warning that if Jay pushes more, there's no way he'll like the outcome.

The trouble is Jay's in the mood that maybe he wants it but perhaps not as his posture sags even more and he says nothing, allowing Voight to continue instead. This time with a tone that's barely concealed concern.

"Those are yesterday's clothes Jay, go home, sleep and we'll talk again tomorrow but for now we follow what I say we follow, okay?"

Jay says nothing, just shakes his head, defeated and turns toward the door, casting a resentful look at Hailey then walks to his desk, picking up his jacket and quickly leaves the bullpen.

"I'll go after him," Hailey says to the room, not waiting for a response.

\- - - -

Voight watches as Hailey follows the direction Jay left in.

"What do _you_ think? Think we should go undercover now?"

When there's no immediate response, Hank looks behind and turns his chair slightly. Sees Al shrug.

"If you'd asked me this before Erin left and before Jay shot the little girl, well for one thing I doubt we'd be having this conversation and for the other I'm certain we'd be talking about him going in and under the day after tomorrow."

"She _did_ leave and a kid _did_ die though."

Al pushes away from the windowsill and walks around the other side of the desk toward the door.

"I think you answered your own question, Hank. He's the right kid, hell he's completely the right guy, but it's also the wrong time and maybe tomorrow will be the right time or 3 weeks, it's the right call for now and I think he knows it too which is probably what's scaring or bothering him the most."

"Yeah," Voight shares a pensive look with Al before the other man steps back out in the bullpen without another word.

\- - - -

Hailey finds Jay in the driver's seat of the truck, hand poised on the ignition but unmoving.

"Jay, I."

"A little backup, a little support. More of being a partner, those things you said before, it would have been good just now."

She shakes her head, "Oh no, Jay. That's not what you'll get from me if I don't think it's right for you. I will do _anything_ for you except if I think it could put you in harm's way or risk the unit or risk getting anything long term. I'm here for you but that doesn't mean I'll sign off on things that aren't right just for this moment."

"You think he's right then?" Jay questions, still not looking at her. His tone is a little less angry, more uncertain. His expression and demeanor less hostile, more afraid.

"I don't think it hurts just to see what we're dealing with," she answers diplomatically before adding, "Even if it's just a day. You're the right person. He didn't disagree with that. It's just about making it work, Jay."

Jay doesn't respond at first, but then slowly he turns his head toward her and smiles.

"Thanks for convincing me it was worth the while this morning and for staying last night too."

"We're partners, right?"

After a beat, Jay turns the ignition key, starts the engine and grins even if it doesn't reach his eyes, "Yeah, we are. See you tomorrow, partner."

Two minutes after he's gone. Hailey shakes herself, walks back across the parking lot and whispers, "You will, partner, you will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it was pretty long. I wanted most of the setup for the case in one chapter though loads more to come but much more combined with character stuff and shorter chapters. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please consider leaving kudos or a comment, would love to know what you think. Take care xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say thank you for the kudos and comments. It truly makes me want to write more and I appreciate you all so much. Thank you.
> 
> Any errors etc., are down to me as always x
> 
> We began this chapter with a little time jump from where we last left the good people of intelligence (just over 3 weeks on) and there is mention though it's non graphic of serious injuries and death.

Voight hears Ruzek and Atwater before he sees them as they come up the back way into the bullpen and there's a louder than normal slam of the door as they walk past his office.

Greeting everyone there in the bullpen with a nod and dropping their jackets onto their desks.

Hank stands up and watches them as they shake their heads. He can hear what Adam's saying. He's sure it's not an accident.

"Nothing again. All we got was a bunch of deliveries being made and people going in and out of the bar."

"For twelve entire hours," Kev chips in as he releases a loud yawn.

Voight feels Jay's eyes on him without needing to return the stare. He's done this every time someone's come back from surveying the bar. He's done it similarly to Kev and Adam too, vocally when it's been him and Hailey there.

There's nothing that they're gaining by any of this. Sure, they see Barnet most days, but very little else. It's been over 3 weeks and nothing.

He's decided. He just needs to pull the trigger, give the go ahead and hope that Halstead's up to it. Mentally.

Jay's up from his chair and approaching his office and Hank holds up his hand to stop him, making his way out to the bullpen when he spots Platt walking up the stairs, grim-faced.

"What's up?"

"You'll wanna see this. Patrol got a call to Smith Park last night, a body found by a couple right by the WWII tank," Platt hands Voight a piece of paper which he takes from and scans it before he looks back up at the desk sergeant.

"Huh," he can feel the tension and curiosity in the room. Jay's ill concealed frustration not only at the stakeout being a bust again but the fact he's not been able to vent again is silent but so loud.

He looks away from Trudy and moves so he can see everyone, holds up the piece of paper.

"Eddie Stapleton."

He sees Hailey and Jay exchange a startled look and there's a quiet murmur around the room as everyone takes the news in.

Voight turns to Trudy.

"Family been notified?"

She nods, "Yeah, a couple of hours ago and the body's at the morgue. Autopsy's being performed or should be finished right about now."

"Thanks Trudy," Hank replies before he fixes his attention on his team. "Okay. Antonio and Kim, you go interview Amelia Fischer again. Find out how she's dealing with the news. Jay, Hailey, go back to the morgue. Kev, Adam, I want you to run through financials on this family. Dig deep," then to his oldest friend, he points towards his office, "with me?"

The bullpen becomes a hive of activity. Even Kev and Adam seem energized after their long stint of surveillance.

Within 5 minutes, the bullpen's quieter, just Kev and Adam tapping at their keyboards while sipping coffee.

Just Voight and Olinsky in the former's office. The silent language of knowing each other so long, meaning that there's no need to talk, there's just agreement without words.

It's certain now what will come soon.

\- - - -

Kim slams the car door shut and walks toward the house, Antonio joining her just as the front door opens and Amelia Fischer walks out, carrying a suitcase which she lowers to the ground as she pulls the door shut and locks it.

No sign of the children at all.

Just her, and a pair of shades on the top of her head, even though it's definitely not that time of the year.

"Amelia?" Kim approaches the woman who spins round, startled by the sound of Kim's voice.

Antonio walks ahead, "Going somewhere?"

Kim watches the woman as many emotions flash across her features before it's like she suddenly remembers she should be grief stricken and she rubs at her eyes that Kim can see are non-existent.

"I'm going to stay with family."

"And the kids?" Antonio questions as he joins Amelia and picks up her case.

"They're there too. Already, that is."

She's lying. Kim knows it. She doesn't need Antonio to look at her to know he doesn't believe Amelia either.

"Can we talk inside, Amelia?"

"Why do you need to? I know Eddie's dead. I want to get away from this place, all the memories, and I told you everything I could tell you several weeks ago."

The problem is they've got no reason to insist. No evidence to suggest Amelia killed Eddie. They don't even have evidence yet that he was murdered, just that he disappeared and yes, everything looks off as far as Peter Barnet is concerned and his involvement with Amelia and the children too but nothing more than that they can speak to her about.

Yet. Yet being the operative word.

Antonio says nothing, instead taking her case to the car and placing it in the back seat, shutting the door as Amelia watches him.

"Will we be able to contact you if we need to?"

"Yeah, the number I gave to the officers who came earlier."

Antonio gives her a warm smile and opens the driver's door, Amelia nodding her thanks as she slides into the seat as Antonio almost shuts it before he looks sharply at Kim who gets it immediately and takes a step forward.

"Will you be letting Peter Barnet know where you are? Won't he worry if you go without telling him, especially when he hears about Eddie?"

Amelia's an excellent actress, Kim decides. She has to give her credit for that; she has one tell though as she looks toward Kim in the slight gap where the door is still open.

It's a common tell when people lie. Either during the actual telling of the lie or moments before. She shakes her head, albeit a slight movement, as if she's arguing with herself about which version of a lie she'll tell.

"I'll tell Peter when I get there. Just in case he's concerned. Can I go now, please?"

Antonio releases the hold on the door and takes a step back as Amelia pulls it shut and with an uncertain smile, she starts the car and reverses, Kim stepping out the way and watching the car till it's out of sight.

"She seemed distraught," Kim remarks drily.

"I've been more obviously distraught when I've burned my tongue on something or the TV has stopped working."

"Doesn't make her guilty of anything though," Kim walks toward their car, "Well, aside from not caring about the father of her children, that is and greed."

"Not yet anyway, the guilt I mean," Antonio points out as they both get in the car.

"True," Kim agrees, staring at the house till they pull away and back to the 21st.

\- - - -

"So, everything is similar if not identical to the way David Flynn died?" Hailey questions the same Medical Examiner from a few weeks ago.

"Yeah. Excess calcium which points to too much adrenaline leading to cardiac arrest; ventricular fibrillation as before."

"And the glue type substance that could've been tape?" Jay puts in.

"That too. Atwater from your unit called too about Craig Farmer died at the end of last year? I pulled the records, and everything's identical. The cause of death, the tox screens, everything down to the tape on their eyes. It's all the same except for this guy, Stapleton. Two additional things."

"Which were?" Hailey prompts.

"His feet. Specifically, the soles of his feet. Linear bruising, most of it new. Also this is harder to be sure of but at least there's some evidence of pulmonary edema, also the substance around his nose. It likely came from his lungs. I think it points to a specific torture."

Hailey feels like she's missed something and looks back down at the file again, flicking through the pages.

"Waterboarding," Jay's tone is flat. A statement rather than a question. Hailey flicks her gaze upwards immediately to Jay, who looks nauseous.

"Exactly that," the medical examiner confirms looking from Jay to Hailey, a quizzical, concerned expression directed at her but Hailey knows is about Jay.

Jay's lost in a world though, a world that's focused only on answers to questions he has about this case. Oblivious to how they're looking at him then as if it's forgotten, shrugged off, he moves on.

"I'm confused doc," Jay frowns, "The guy's been missing almost 4 months. How come his body was in a good enough state for you to find all this?"

"Some bruising on his feet is older but everything else? Eddie Stapleton died probably twelve hours before his body was found, perhaps less, but twelve is my estimate."

Jay draws a heavy breath, sends a last look toward the body, mutters a thank you and walks toward the door and outside. As Hailey falls into step alongside him, he voices what he knows is going through her mind too.

"So if he was only just killed, what the hell was happening to him all the time he was missing?"

\- - - -

"So she was in a hurry to leave?"

"Yeah Sarge," Kim replies, "There wasn't a hint of grief. Only eagerness to leave. I guess it could be shock, but no. It was like she knew and was waiting for the say-so to go and we got there in time. 5 minutes later and we wouldn't have known where she was or where she'd gone."

"'Tonio?" Voight turns to the man standing next to Kim, "What are you thinking?"

"The fact the kids weren't there. I'm with Kim, they planned this whoever they are. She was either told to get out of there and get the kids out too first for whatever reason or she knew everything and had to be home to be told the news she was already aware of."

"I also mentioned Barnet. She acted as if he didn't know already."

"Acted being the operative word," Antonio concludes drily.

No one comments, but there's a succession of wry smiles around the bullpen at what he said.

"Okay Kev? Pulled anything on Amelia Fischer?"

"We checked her checking account. A joint account with Eddie Stapleton that was normal until a week after Stapleton disappeared. Since then every week, someone has transferred one thousand dollars into the account," Kev pauses for a moment to let it sink in before continuing.

"Do we know who made the transfer?" Hailey asks.

"No, and the thing is that one week it's a cash transfer. Next week it's from an account that we dug into and got nothing on. No links to Barnet. We're still looking at it, but it fits with what she told Burgess and Antonio the last time they saw her. Except a thousand a week is serious money."

"Could be a cover? Perhaps they're moving it on, using it for something else?"

Adam turns around directing his answer to Antonio's suggestion, "No. She's moving it on but into clothes stores and lots of 'em."

"Okay, well keep digging," Voight instructs then he turns to Jay and Hailey.

"It's the same MO as David Flynn and Craig Farmer too; Cardiac arrest. Evidence of tape above the eye," Jay explains.

"There was more, though. The medical examiner said that she found evidence of bruising on the soles of his feet, some of it older, some new," Hailey pauses, glancing at Jay before continuing, "and evidence of pulmonary edema, there was fluid around his nose she believed came from his lungs."

"They tortured him," Olinsky says quietly, but loud enough for all to hear.

Jay grimaces, "Yeah. And it looks like the torture happened over a sustained period. His death was recent, the medical examiner estimated his time of death as probably early yesterday or the day before."

Voight raises his eyebrows at the information.

"The pulmonary edema? What kind of torture is that?" Kim inquires.

"Waterboarding."

Hailey watches Jay. The facial hair that's grown, the tired eyes. The way he looks at the ground, rather than at anyone else, switching his attention quickly to the board. Anywhere but toward his co-workers. How the hold he has on the file appears steady, but she sees a slight tremble.

She internally sighs and looks to her side, sees that she's not alone in her observation of him. Al. And probably Voight, too.

Jay had been quiet on the way back from the morgue. Silent nods to her attempt to start the conversation. She could guess why but sensed it wasn't the right time. When would ever be the right time to have a conversation like that though?

"Whoever these people are, they're sadistic sob's," Adam stands up, flexing his neck from side to side.

"Yeah. Yeah, they are and we also got Anthony Hunt still missing too," Voight walks toward the board, staring at it for a moment then he turns, looks at Jay for a long moment and nods.

"Ok Halstead, I'm putting you under," At Jay's loud exhale of relief, Voight steps closer to him holding a hand up, "You go in with a wire, this is checking everything out, that's all. I get concerned about you. Anyone has doubts about this, I will pull you and we go the slow way, understand?"

"Sarge," Jay responds quietly.

"Day after tomorrow. Be ready," Voight says to the room and everyone murmurs their assent.

Another step forward perhaps, Hank Voight hopes it doesn't come at a cost.

\- - - -

Jay's ready. He is. It's just that all afternoon he's not been able to put the images of Eddie Stapleton's body out of his head.

He's seen gruesome in this job before. Seen the worst that people will do to each other. None of them resonated like this, though. The torture. The thought of the torture that the man endured potentially for all the time he was missing. It almost resonates too much.

He sits in the toilet cubicle on the seat, bent over. His hands covering his mouth. Jay's wanted this opportunity since that early morning all those weeks ago. He knows his play, knows exactly what to do. Had it firmed up in his head since day 1.

He's a professional and he _will_ get this done. Doesn't mean that he's weak for dwelling on the details of what Stapleton went through. Flynn and Farmer, too. Keep telling yourself that Halstead, he admonishes himself and stands up.

Jay flushes the toilet he hadn't even used and opening the cubicle door. Almost crashing back into it when he sees Olinsky standing there in front of him, leaning against the wall.

"You're like a cat Al, how long you been waiting there?"

Al shrugs, "Lost count after ten minutes, how you doing, kid?"

Ten minutes? Jay peers at his watch. Shit. How spaced out was he?

"I'm okay, also not a kid," he points out with a half smile which Al returns but there's doubt there, concern.

"You've never talked much about your time in country. I think we learned more about it from Mouse than ever from you. Sure you're okay with this? Sure you're up to it? The torture these people endured it can bring back memories you think you pushed down, and that's _now_ , you haven't even gone under yet."

Anyone else Jay thinks he'd bristle. He'd bite back some comment to show how annoyed he was at their doubt in him, not concern, _doubt_ because that's what it is to him at least. Al's different. Quiet. Dangerous for all that, but still never to Jay. He's considered. He may call Jay kid, but he doesn't treat him like one.

"I know you think you're up to it. Been preparing for it for weeks," continues Al, "explains the facial hair. Wondered for a little while then I figured it out. All I'll say is to be careful for your own sake. No case is worth giving up your sanity for."

"I'm good Al, _really."_

"You are now or your own version of fine, perhaps. Just be careful," then with a quiet smile as he pushes away from the wall, he adds, "kid."

Leaving Jay to walk to the basin and try to avoid his own reflection in the mirror. The mirror that'll tell him he needs to learn to lie better if this undercover will ever work how it should.

Except perhaps that's the point, because this undercover needs to be about undoing all the hard work he's done to mask everything. To peel back the layers. That's what's scary, that's why he's afraid and is too afraid that if he looks at himself for too long, he'll realize that.

\- - - -

Jay knows the knock on the door and he knows the person doing it. A guy his brother's age should be beyond the rat-a-tat-tat noise by now when he knocks.

Or perhaps the knock is just for him. Their thing. Come to think of it, he's never been around Will much when he's knocking on doors to see whether he does the same knock for everyone.

It makes Jay smile. The thought it's only for him, a remembrance of younger days, even if it's fanciful.

He opens the door, bracing himself for the inevitable and it takes Will two seconds at most before he smirks, takes a step back and looks left and right then tilts his head to one side.

"I'm sorry, but am I at the right address? I'm looking for Jay Halstead, less attractive of the two Halstead siblings and yet here I am and all I can see is The Wild man of Borneo."

Will laughs, and Jay rolls his eyes.

"You're an asshole, are you going to come in or not?"

"Yeah okay, now I know you're my baby brother."

Jay fixes him with a glare but stands aside as Will walks in the apartment and holds the pizza box up high.

"You love me really Jay, chill man."

An hour later and Jay's pleasantly full from the pizza and relaxing with a bottle of beer. Will the same, though the oldest Halstead sibling is looking at the youngest appraisingly.

"So what was so important that you insisted I come over tonight?"

"I can't say too much but I'll be undercover for a little while from tomorrow. Not sure for how long." Jay offers a smile before he takes a swig from the bottle and looks back toward the TV.

"Dangerous?"

Jay shrugs, "It's always a little dangerous, Will. I'll be fine, everyone has my back."

"Just you?"

Jay's always been able to recognize the worry in Will's voice, even if he disguises it well.

"Can't say too much, man."

"Gotcha."

For a moment Jay thinks it's as easy as Will saying one word, nothing else and accepting it, not being a mother hen or actually, a big brother about it.

He recognizes the pang in his chest that's a small amount of disappointment because he can't tell Will that wire aside and his team not too far away but crucially not with him, he will be alone and it is dangerous, it's important too and he thinks maybe at least with the little bubble of nerves he's feeling tonight, something more than 'Gotcha' could carry him through those nerves a little.

Then he feels a finger poke his arm and a quiet, "Look at me, Jay," and he turns his head, sees the concern writ all over his big brother's face and hears," You stay safe, okay, don't do anything too crazy."

And he realizes the comfort for him is fleeting but it seems to calm Will and that's enough, he hopes its enough.

He pokes his brother's arm back and cracks a smile, concealing as always, "I'll be fine," he repeats, "Now shut up, and let me watch the game."

\- - - -

For reasons unknown to everyone in the unit, Hailey hates the anticipation ahead of undercover ops even as much as she hates the moment someone else goes undercover and there's not a thing she can do about it or protect them.

Not that Jay is a rookie or anything. Far from it and as she watches him across the room as Atwater sets up the wire and it all seems fine, he's got a look of schooled calm.

She wonders if he's not fooling anyone else too. Maybe Al, maybe Voight. Perhaps all of them and they're just so used to it they let it go because Jay still gets the job done.

At what cost, though?

Jay zips up the jacket as Kev steps away, the wire setup complete. Hailey walks over to him and hands over the cell Jay will be using.

"One cracked old ass iPhone tested and working just as you ordered Detective," she says with a smile.

"Thanks," Jay pockets the cell and looks around the room, "Ok, that's me ready."

"Got your apartment keys?" Hailey checks.

Jay pats his pockets, feeling for them, "Yep."

They'd gone yesterday morning to set it all up. A shabby, nondescript apartment. Just as you'd expect for a down on his luck veteran apart from his family and looking for a change in that luck.

"Jay, all set?" Voight appears in the doorway and Hailey can see Kev and Adam behind.

Jay nods. Voight eyes him for a moment before he walks away. The time for pep talks and warnings all for yesterday.

Hailey doesn't take her eyes from Jay and opens her mouth as he turns away, then as he looks back, a quizzical expression on his face, she clamps her mouth shut.

"Were you going to say something?"

Hailey smiles, "Yeah, you ready?"

Jay's right to look unconvinced but he doesn't push it and instead mutters that he is and they walk out together to the truck where she'll drop him off and everything will begin from there.

\- - - -

Thirty minutes later and they're 3 blocks from the bar.

Hailey studies Jay, who looks just like the part he'll be playing. Ryan Foster. Thirty something loner. Fidgety, messed up guy who trusts no one. Shunned his other 'brothers' after he got home, made several wrong decisions and winds up in a bar seeking solace from everything he shunned. Complete with a bottle of liquor in his hand that he's been swigging at for the last few minutes.

Polar opposite of Jay Halstead. Mostly.

Jay looks over his shoulder and out the back of the truck, takes a final swig before he hands the bottle to Hailey and inhales then exhales as though it's his last breath. Last breath for now being Jay Halstead, perhaps?.

"You remember to check in when we agree and I won't come busting up your door to check you're still alive.'' She reminds him.

"Okay," he agrees as he reaches for the door handle.

Hailey reaches out her hand before she can stop herself, "Jay."

He whips his head in her direction so fast, fast enough it could give him whiplash.

As he turns and there's this look in his eyes. It's strange but despite the start in them being partners. Despite the arm's length he holds her at, she can see the potential. In them as partners, but not just partners. Friends. She sees something in him that maybe he doesn't recognize in himself.

Goodness. Dependability and this layer of vulnerability that he tries to hide even despite the things he's endured since Hailey encountered him. This vulnerability and the experiences in his past that keep him grounded, keeps him decent.

Hailey knows what it's like to lose someone. She's not about to tell anyone that, and she won't tell Jay now. It's revealing something so intense and personal at the wrong time entirely and for the wrong reason and just as much, it's a time she wants to forget too.

It doesn't mean though that she'll let Jay go without knowing that whatever happens; she has his back. When now is likely to be the last she'll see of Jay as Jay, unencumbered Jay for who knows how long? Hell, maybe they'll be lucky and it'll be a week and Barnet will crumble.

They don't get lucky often in this world though.

"Hailey?"

"Just wanted to say I got your back. Don't be reckless. Like I said before, stay in touch. I'll be listening, we all will."

"I'll be fine Hailey," he assures her and before she can say anything, he's jumping out the truck and walking away.

"I hope so, Jay, just concerned that's all," she says to the truck that's empty aside from her now then she picks up the radio, "Halstead's walking up now."

"Copy that," Kevin acknowledges.

Hailey shuts her eyes, thumping the back of her head against the headrest, opens them, throws the empty bottle onto the seat Jay had just occupied, turns the key in the ignition and drives away.

\- - - -

The bar's smaller inside than it looked in the pictures. It's half empty too. A bunch of guys, all of them older than Jay sat around in pairs or alone while a bored looking middle-aged woman stands behind the bar mostly staring at her cell.

In the corner, there's a jukebox that plays 70s songs Jay can remember the older guys in the unit playing during the first tour in Afghanistan.

The pictures are mostly of old Chicago. There's nothing that strikes Jay immediately as being a place for vets. Nothing that stands out.

He takes a sip from the double he'd ordered and feels the burn as it clears his throat and makes its way further down.

There's no sign of Barnet. No sign of anything, and that's okay. They know they need to take it slow and Barnet's only a few minutes later than he normally gets here judging from what they learned during those weeks of surveillance on this place.

Out of the blue a few minutes later Jay sees the woman straighten up suddenly and fuss at her hair, displaying a tight smile and Jay turns his head to see who just arrived.

Tall. Whip thin. Haircut likely the same as the last day he served. Peter Barnet. The murderer of Eddie Stapleton, Craig Farmer and David Flynn and whatever's happened to Anthony Hunt?

Who knows?

Jay's damn sure Peter Barnet does and he tenses before taking another long sip from the double.

No more Jay, only Ryan for as long as it takes. Here goes nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would love to know as always what you think and if you enjoyed, please consider leaving a kudos. 
> 
> I know the chapter was pretty long again. Undercover Jay or Ryan that is begins in earnest next chapter and I'll be back as soon as I can. Take care till then. xx


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, so I started writing this chapter, and it became a monster. I didn't want to post it in one and I also don't want to post them on separate days so this and the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. Thanks to nons so much for everything, you're amazing and I'm beyond grateful for you.
> 
> Thank you all for so the lovely comments and for the kudos. I'm so thankful. 
> 
> Any mistakes etc., down to me as always x

Some, particularly Voight in recent weeks, would probably shake their head and laugh ruefully at the very idea that Jay can be patient.

He can be though and he has to be. It's almost a week since he went under and still he's not exchanged a word with anyone except the lady bartender named Marcie.

Most days, he's sat at the bar on a stool, side on so he can watch the other customers. The regulars. Not that there are many. The ones that are there sit mostly alone, though there are a couple of small groups that sit near each other barely exchanging a word, hands always close to their glasses or bottles.

It's a strange atmosphere. There's still nothing that quite stands out as it being a place for veterans, but now he's been here a little while, he can spot the ones who are.

Their hands tremble as they lift their bottles. They share a distant look in their eyes and the fact that they're here all day long. Reluctant to leave when the bar finally closes as though they're all too aware that going home involves shutting their eyes and bringing on the demons they try so hard to chase away with alcohol the entire time they're here.

Jay feels it. Has had occasions where he's lived it.

Barnet's rarely here. When he is, he disappears through a door at the far side of the bar.

Jay will wait as long as he needs to. He has a play, he's biding his time as anyone like Ryan Foster would; forget Jay Halstead. A skilled soldier waits for the right moment.

"Last drink before we shut?"

Jay turns his head towards Marcie. She's in her fifties, Jay estimates. Whip thin. Makeup a little too heavily applied; brunette hair that's got a streak of gray right through the roots. When she smiles which is rare, Jay thinks she's almost beautiful. Probably was once upon a time. Likely never imagined she'd end up somewhere like this.

Jay nods, "Please," as he hands the glass over to her. Somehow he's spaced each drink starting with beer over two hours or more so he doesn't feel drunk. It's almost 1am, and he's been here since early evening.

Adrenaline stops the drink from having the worst effects and he's always on his guard so he doesn't let it go out of control until and if he ever needs to.

He can feel Marcie's eyes on him as she pours the mixer in with the vodka and hands it to him when she's done.

"Funny how I never saw you here before the last 5 or 6 days and now you can't stay away. At least your clothes are getting a little cleaner if not tidier."

Jay looks down at what he's wearing which is cleaner and less ripped than the previous days while still too big for him, lifts the glass and looks at her, turns on the charm and his most winning smile, "It's the amazing and charming staff this bar has that keeps me coming back."

Her laugh is loud, genuine and honestly it's actually the first time he's seen her happy for more than a second. She leans her body over the bar towards Jay a little more and whispers.

"Well, you only gotta say honey and I'll tell everybody to go home. Man like you, I could show ya a thing or two."

"I'm sure you could, you're kinda outta my league though," Jay laughs.

"Honey, you weren't even born, or you were knee-high to a grasshopper when my league formed but all the same I'm gonna take that as a win seeing as you didn't say no, so apart from the stunningly attractive bartender, what brings you here?" then she slams her hand on the bar and holds her finger up, "No, wait before that what's your name?"

"Ryan."

"Huh, yeah you fit a name like Ryan, well hi, so back to my original question, what brings you here?"

In their own way, bartenders are as effective at questioning as any detective can be. Arguably, more so. They hold a captive audience with lips loosened by alcohol coupled with the way it lowers a person's defenses.

Marcie's no different to any other bartender out there. Jay's not her average customer though, or rather Ryan.

"Boredom and drinking away my problems and all my money seems a lot better spent here than staring at 4 walls all day."

"Figures, you're different though Ryan, sure you drink but not as much as Terry over there," she says pointing to a corner table where a man in his forties or maybe his fifties, it's hard to tell, is staring nowhere other than at the bottle he's drinking from. Next she points to the table where 3 men are sitting. Older than Terry Jay thinks, "Those 3, they're calm today but a few weeks back, they put each other in hospital. They wouldn't be without each other like they weren't without each other in Vietnam, probably die close to each other too anyway yeah you're different."

Jay's gaze returns to Terry before he looks back at Marcie.

"Maybe."

"Given you spend a lot of time here I'm guessing you don't work?"

"Sure you're not a psychic Marcie?"

"Ha, sure you're not a smartass Ryan?" Marcie fires back and they both share a grin.

Jay leans forward, puts on his best puppy dog eyes, the effect lost somewhat by the facial hair and the fact he doesn't appear so young anymore.

"Do you know of any jobs? I've tended a few bars here and there. I'm reliable."

Marcie looks over Jay's shoulder, shrugs and Jay looks behind him and sees Barnet who if he was giving any sign of eye contact or reaction stopped the moment Jay looked around.

"Is that the guy I need to ask? _Should_ I ask him?"

Marcie's shake of the head is definite, and she looks panicked for a second, "No. Listen, I'll ask around to see if I can find any jobs, no promises though, but I'll try."

Jay nods then glances back towards Barnet who's not moved from where he's leaning against the doorway he disappears through every time he comes to the bar.

"Ryan," Marcie's voice is sharp, and it's enough for Jay to return his attention back to her, "Promise me you won't ask him, please?"

"I promise Marcie," Jay confirms. He doesn't ask 'why are you so worried that I might?' doesn't need to because it's written all over his face and they both know it.

The woman purses her lips, looks ready to respond but gives him a tight smile and says, "Good, now I'd better go clean the bar before we close."

Jay watches her before he looks back toward where Barnet had been standing. He's not there anymore though and Jay has to stifle a yawn. A reminder of the lack of sleep he'd had last night.

Lack of sleep caused by unsettled dreams. Maybe not so different from Terry and everyone in this bar after all.

He drains his drink and pulls out a bill, laying it flat on the counter and walks out.

\- - - -

Jay's already waiting when Hailey pulls up in the car she's driving and as a truck with Voight driving pulls in alongside it.

Hailey gets out of the car and walks over to where Jay's standing, his mouth wide open, staring at the car as she holds her hand out with the keys in them to hand to him.

"You said old, Jay."

"Didn't think you'd take me literally but you're right I said old and as long as it moves."

It's a gray ford focus and up closer it's not too bad, a little rusty. Just older and smaller than Jay's used to.

He takes the keys from Hailey as Voight joins them.

"Any progress, Jay?" the older man inquires.

"Not sure if you caught the latest but Marcie talked to me last night. I asked if there were jobs. Caught her looking at Barnet and she seemed a little scared and shut herself down."

"Slow progress then," Voight comments.

"Sarge, these things take time," Jay protests.

"I know. I'm just passing on what I know will come down to me any day now if there's no progress soon."

Jay breathes out, "Yeah I get it. They don't even know I'm former army yet, or maybe they do and we're all playing poker waiting to see who'll blink first."

"Probably not too late to get Ruzek's CI to make an introduction to Barnet?" Hailey suggests.

"Jay?"

Hailey watches Jay as he looks from Voight to her, considers it for a moment, then shakes his head.

"Not yet. I feel like maybe I made some progress last night. Next week if there's nothing, maybe, but not yet."

Voight nods and looks as though he's about to ask a question before his cell rings and he puts his hand up before he answers it, walking away.

"Are you okay? Sleeping?" Hailey asks after a few too many seconds of silence between them.

She suspects she knows the answer. It's not only the beard that gives Jay the exhausted down on his luck effect, nor his clothes. It's the eyes that too. The same exhaustion, the same sense of weariness he's worn since he shot the little girl; since Lindsay left.

Hell probably since he took the weight of the world on his shoulders. Sometimes being undercover can be a focus and maybe once it really kicks into gear, if it does, then it'll give him the energy lift he needs or she senses he does.

Jay hesitates before answering, narrows his eyes and shrugs, "New place to live. New bed and all, always going to take a while."

"Uh-huh," Hailey tries not to look as unconvinced as she feels. It's not helpful right now to put doubt into Jay's mind even while she feels it herself, even though he probably does too.

"Hey, think you can find anything on Marcie?" Jay changes the subject as Voight returns shaking his head at his phone.

"Got a last name?"

"No, I'll work on that later. I feel like I'm so close."

Some could mistake Jay's belief for desperation. Hell, go back a few weeks Hailey would have said it aloud, but she feels like she knows him better. Read him better anyway. It's just fervent belief on his part that he can reach out and touch the next stage of it all, almost perhaps.

"Okay, so keep going Jay," Voight urges, "Stay in touch with Upton and we'll look into this Marcie to see if we can find her. Can't be that many. Meantime, you stick with the plan and if nothing changes by the middle of next week, we look at Adam's CI."

Jay nods gratefully, turning the keys over in his hand and watching as Hailey and Voight get in the older man's car and drive away before he gets in the car, finding a coffee cup on the passenger seat that he reaches for to throw out the door before he realizes its warm and as he removes the lid, it's not black as Hailey would have it. It's how he likes his coffee.

Perhaps it's the first time Jay himself rather than Ryan smiles in days. A genuine one at that.

\- - - -

Marcie smiles as Jay throws his jacket onto the back of the stool and sits down, ready to order his drink.

"I took a wild guess," she places the bottle in front of him.

"Excellent memory."

Marcie scoffs, "You don't work as long as I have in this game and not get to know your regulars' orders. Also, I have a notebook as my memory isn't what it was."

Jay lifts the bottle and tilts it in her direction in acknowledgement.

"You look tired today, Ryan."

Jay flicks his eyes up toward Marcie, "Why does everyone feel the urge to say that to me?"

 _"Everyone?_ " she questions.

"Well, back in the day everyone," Jay amends, "You're the first person to care in I don't know how long."

"Oh wait, let me go fetch my violins."

"No one likes sarcasm, Marcie."

"No one likes a sad sack, Ryan," Marcie's expression softens, "Ex-army right?"

Two things happen. The first which draws attention to the second. Marcie's good at covering, but not good enough. Her eyes dart left for a fraction of a second too long and Jay lifts his bottle and glances in the same direction seeing Peter Barnet slide onto a stool, his cell in his hand and acting for all the world like he's not listening.

Jay's done it himself before. Many times. He's also acted as though he hadn't noticed something like this multiple times before too and as he sets the bottle down, peers at Marcie whose attention is fully on him again now, he's ready to do it again.

"Yeah. Rangers. Two tours in Afghanistan."

"Bad?"

Jay's automatic reaction is to say 'hell yeah, the worst' and he figures Ryan's would be too. Except for the camaraderie. The Ryan Foster he is now absolutely misses it for all that he lost, suffered and feels the effects of till today.

"Sometimes it was the worst thing you can imagine. Sometimes I can't get the smell of blood out of my mind or it's the first thing I can smell when I wake up if I even sleep at all. The cordite. The bodies. Every day I miss the guys though."

"Ever see any of them?"

"Nope. Most of them are dead, died in country or were too traumatized or drunk like me." Jay states flatly.

"Oh honey," Marcie lays a hand on his arm but she's too obvious again, the way her gaze shifts left again.

Jay can see without even turning his head that Barnet's staring at him. Can feel the gaze burning into him. Plays up to it a little.

"Better family than any of my own," he looks beyond Marcie, "Give anything to get that feeling back. Better than being here, drinking or sleeping in an apartment close to where a younger Ryan thought he'd end up or maybe a house with a wife and 2 kids."

"Not too late to have all that Ryan."

"And yet I've still not got a job."

Marcie's more obvious this time, though Jay deliberately doesn't look up. Instead, he stares at the bottom of the beer bottle even as Barnet and Marcie have a silent conversation for a few seconds.

When he looks up finally, Marcie's turned away to make a drink for one of the other regulars who nods at Jay before Jay looks to his right and the space where Barnet had been sitting.

All signs of him having been there disappearing without a trace like it was all part of Jay's imagination.

\- - - -

It's cold when Jay leaves and he tightens the jacket around him and walks as fast as he can back toward his apartment.

This time of night it's still quite busy, but not so busy that after a few minutes Jay's aware of a constant presence behind him.

Jay doesn't have a weapon. He turned his wire off just before leaving. He's confident enough in his own abilities at hand to hand combat but he'd rather not try even though he'd not drunk very much tonight at all as Marcie instead of paying more attention to him After their conversation had instead paid less.

He arrives at the apartment that's above a store and stops quickly, turning around. The familiar man steps within a handshake's distance from Jay and offers a smile.

"Ryan? I'm Peter Barnet. Marcie's told me a lot about you, could we talk?"

The apartment is tiny. Any wallpaper there is, is peeling off, and the tiles of the kitchenette are stained yellow. Courtesy of a previous occupant, a smoker perhaps?

There's just two small windows. For all the world, it's like a prison cell rather than an apartment. For the price Ryan or anyone in the world would pay for it, it's hardly surprising.

Perhaps 5 or even 10 years ago, it would've been sought after despite the few redeeming qualities. Small but tidy. A handy place to be. Now it's every inch or foot of a place that someone like Ryan would end up.

Jay watches Barnet as he takes in the small apartment and nods before he looks at Ryan.

"I followed you because I wasn't sure I believed what you told Marcie. I'll be honest, I still don't fully buy your story but I can check. Afghanistan?"

"Korengal Valley."

Barnet's eyebrows raise upwards, "Enough said," he gestures toward the couch and Jay nods observing the older man as he sits down, stretching out his long legs then peering up at Jay.

"I did Iraq. Came home expecting to be a hero. Was anything but. Ring any bells?"

"Yeah," Jay mutters, staring at the floor.

"Men like us are forgotten, Ryan. Cast aside. Sometimes we got to take care of ourselves, each other. You know?"

Jay looks up, "All I need to get back on my feet is a job, Mr Barnet."

"Ever seen any of your buddies killed, Ryan or you ever had one kill that haunted you?"

"Haven't we all?" Jay fires back, noting the slight smile that appears on Barnet's features, it's not a sympathetic smile or a smile between two former soldiers. It's something else.

"Okay. Own a razor and any clean undamaged clothes?"

Jay nods.

"Use them. Wear them. Start tomorrow. Behind the bar, Marcie could use a hand," Barnet stands up reaching out his hand to shake Jay's before he withdraws it slightly, "What did you say your last name was, kid?"

"I didn't. It's Foster."

Barnet shakes Jay's hand and smiles before he murmurs, "Good," then he walks toward the door, stopping for a moment and turning back to look at Jay, all traces of a smile gone he adds, "If I find you're lying to me at any stage for any reason Ryan Foster, it won't end well. 11am tomorrow, by the way."

Then without another word or any chance for Jay to respond, he opens and shuts the door behind him.

If Jay was in any doubt about Barnet, that's gone now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing from chapter 4 x

Jay hears a whistle almost as soon as he sets foot in the bar and rolls his eyes.

"Damn, who are you and what did you do Ryan? Give us a twirl, honey."

Jay lifts his middle finger but grins as Marcie comes from round the bar and toward him, "Now you got the designer facial hair and you look so much younger. Your eyes look real tired but still you look younger already Ryan, and these clothes they ain't perfect but they're better. Wouldn't throw you out of bed."

"Don't make promises you're not prepared to keep Marcie," Jay teases, and she laughs as she walks away back around the other side of the bar, placing her hands either side of one of the taps.

"Ever worked one of these?"

Jay nods, "Yeah. Like I said before, I worked some bars before I joined the Rangers."

"Well good, unlock the doors and we'll see what today brings," she pauses and with a grin adds, "newbie."

A few hours later filled with nothing except small talk, exchanging numbers as 'That's what co-workers do, sweetie and oh my gosh, is that really your cell it's all smashed up?' and the one thing that's struck Jay about this bar since he began life as Ryan Foster is how quiet it is. That and how expensive it must be to run. It barely justifies Marcie's role besides Barnet, never mind Ryan's.

"Is the bar always this quiet?" Jay asks as Marcie glances at her cell.

She looks up distractedly, "Not always. Not so long ago, this place was crazy busy, but I doubt it'll ever get so busy again."

"Oh?"

"Eddie was such a draw," Marcie smiles fondly, more present for a moment, "Funny, smart, nothing seemed to bother him till suddenly it did and then, anyway." Marcie straightens, appearing to shake herself from that train of thought, and gives Jay a weak smile, then she holds the cell up, "I have to call someone."

Before Jay can stop her, she walks away through the door Barnet had been standing against in previous days and that she'd waved a cursory hand towards earlier.

Jay looks around the bar, ready to follow Marcie under the auspices of looking for more stock to add to the shelves around him but Terry's leaning against the bar so with a lingering look toward the door, he walks over to the older man, "'nother bottle man?"

Ten minutes later and there's still no sign of her. None of the few people sitting around look ready to move so Jay locks the register and then clipping the keys on his belt, he follows the direction she'd left in.

As soon as he shuts the door behind him, he sees a door open on the left that he opens, a sizable room with bottles piled high and two lockers in the corner, a chair and small table in front of them and a small TV on top of a cabinet shoved against the wall.

He checks the ceiling and each corner for any sign of cameras, any sign of surveillance, and if there is any, it's hidden. Jay pulls out his cell quickly and takes a picture.

Jay closes the door and then sees the sign for the bathroom, a unisex staff one on the right that's unoccupied and then just ahead of the fire door there's a sign pointing downwards and another door with a sign saying 'Cellar' and Jay's just about to open it when he hears a voice beyond the partially opened fire door beyond which he can see a sliver of light.

"I need some now. Just Oxy. Just enough for the next week. Come on, you know I'm good for it. Please. Yes, today I got someone working here so I can make it out, _please._ "

Marcie's silent for a few seconds before Jay hears her laugh. Relief obvious and audible.

"Thank you. Yeah, forty-five minutes."

Jay hears her footsteps and quickly walks back through the door to the bar, picking up a towel and wiping down the bar as Marcie joins him, rubbing at her neck.

"All ok?" Jay asks.

Her smile is so forced, "Couldn't be better, Ryan, couldn't be better."

Over the following forty minutes, she rebuffs every attempt at conversation Jay makes. Marcie checks her cell over and over instead. Several ideas run through Jay's mind. Two end up being prominent. The first, call Voight, have someone pick her up and try to get more information from her and hope she calls him somewhere along the way but what if she doesn't and Barnet comes through for her?

He settles on the second idea. Casts his eye around the bar that's emptied from Terry in his usual place and another guy who's a regular who drinks his root beer quietly. Eyes everywhere.

When Jay's eyes settle on Marcie, it's with the newly gained knowledge that at the least she's a habitual user. Likely an addict. It's easier to understand even though the signs aren't obvious. She does well to hide when she's on them, Jay thinks. The notebook makes more sense now because of memory problems. The slow reactions and familiar sound of glass breaking and her apologetic, 'whoops' too.

Other signs she hides better, or maybe Jay just hasn't picked up on them yet.

When she makes her excuses just before Jay accepts them without argument, he waits less than a minute before he decides, hurries over to the guy who's not Terry and tells him he won't be long and to monitor the bar.

The guy nods, and Jay rushes away, following Marcie outside. He can see her with a man almost half her age, he thinks. It's already happened, Jay figures as she nods at the man and turns walking back toward Jay. Stopping dead when she sees him, her shoulders slumping before she draws level and faces him.

"You're spying on me, Ryan?"

Jay ignores her question. "How long you been using, Marcie?"

She shrugs.

"Does Barnet know?"

Crucially she doesn't say no. Instead, she lightly touches his arm.

"Not now, Ryan, later."

She walks inside before Jay can stop her having to trust she'll be honest.

\- - - -

Jay locks the door, pulls down the grille and turns to see Marcie place 2 glasses on one table and pours from a bottle of Glenfiddich into each one.

He walks to the table, pulls a chair back as she does the same and sits down watching her.

"2 or just over 2 years, Ryan. That's how long. Clearing out my son's place when he died and found them. Took them home with me and you know Brian was so troubled unless he took them at first anyway and I needed to take some pain away too."

"Brian? As in Brian's place?" Jay asks, making the connection.

Marcie nods.

"Yeah. Mr Price and Peter. They've been so good to me. Suddenly one day they changed the name. You know, Brian was never the same when he came home. He tried to make a living. Tried to rebuild. He was never physically hurt over there. Mentally, though."

"Came home from where?" Jay prompts gently.

"Iraq. He was a Marine. All he ever wanted to be."

"If he wasn't hurt how did he wind up on Oxy?"

"A running injury. Hurt his knee." Marcie replies.

"Was it an overdose that killed him?"

"I think so, I'm not sure. Mr Price took care of it. Took care of everything. The funeral, everything. Said I wouldn't want to remember him as a corpse so they id'd his body. They were incredible. They kept me on despite me not even wanting to be alive. Gave me fresh life."

The wheels in Jay's brain turn faster, "They know you take Oxy, Marcie?"

"They offered rehab at first. I said no, too old and too tired to fight. Sometimes I don't need the dealer because they take care of it."

Marcie really doesn't see it, Jay thinks. Doesn't get that they're controlling her. He has to bite his tongue. Just add it to the list.

"It's never too late to try a program, Marcie."

"Maybe not for someone your age, Ryan, but for me it's okay, it's better this way. I don't have nightmares like I used to. Brian used to have nightmares. About the kids he'd see, the aftermath of bombings. The people he killed. Same as you I imagine?"

Jay doesn't react, and Marcie doesn't push him.

"You know the one thing is Brian no matter how low he was and he got real low, he always promised me as long as I was around, he would be too. No promises for after I was gone which I understood, but while I was here, he was adamant he wouldn't go. I believed him, but maybe Mr Price knew him better."

"Mr Price?" Jay asks, "The guy who ID'd his body?".

"Yeah, the guy who runs this place or owns it at least. Eddie couldn't stand him, come to think of it few people could or can," Marcie runs her fingers along the edge of the table and looks up and around them, "This place changed somewhere along the line, and not necessarily for the better, it was better, happier when it was the Cross."

"What do you think happened to Eddie?"

She sends him a pitying look, "Oh not just Eddie, try David and Craig. Try Anthony, although maybe he _really_ did just leave," she shakes herself then, "Anyways, I'm not paid to think. I take my tablets and I just wait out my days, making enough so I can one day move on or hopefully not exist at all."

There's a hopelessness to her tone that goes beyond the addiction. That goes beyond the effects of it. Perhaps it's fear, perhaps it's something else.

She stands up and looks at the clock on the wall, "We should go and I've said way too much, we gotta be up and back here by 12 tomorrow."

Jay stands up too, taking the bottle and glasses from her, "Why don't you take a day tomorrow? You've been running this bar single handed for all these months Marcie, I'll take care of it."

For the first time since well days or even longer in reality he imagines, perhaps weeks or months, there's a hopeful flicker in her eyes.

"Really?"

"Really, just do me a favor and think about programs?"

She gives him a reluctant nod, "It's a pipe dream honey, I can't afford to go."

"You let me worry about that."

"I thought you were broke?"

"I have a little put by for a rainy day Marcie, for important things," as she opens her mouth to protest, Jay holds a hand up, "I know what you're about to say but don't."

The glint in her eyes now he suspects is moisture. Her voice trembles as she speaks.

"Aren't you full of surprises Ryan, you remind me of Eddie and particularly my Brian," she smiles warmly but then sobers, "Ok, I'll think about it, properly. You do me a favor too though Ryan, you be careful around here. Real careful."

"Deal," Jay promises.

That night Jay stares at the ceiling thinking of Marcie in between the aborted patterns of sleep, disturbed sleep filled with broken bodies, burning flesh and a child's body with blood pouring from the holes in her body.

\- - - -

Jay's already waiting for Hailey when she brings the car to a stop and pulls the keys out of the ignition, getting out, reaching for the coffee cups and offering a smile which Jay returns with a small laugh as he picks up one of the two cups from the bonnet of his car and offers it to her.

"So are we both that predictable or is this kinda cute?" Hailey jokes, laughing lightly at the expression on Jay's face before changing the subject quickly, gesturing to Jay's face with her free hand as they exchange cups and Jay places his on the bonnet of the Focus.

"You look a little less wild than last time, Halstead."

"Apparently my brother was right and the facial hair was a little too wild for even a bar like Brian's place." Jay replies with a grin.

"Yeah it suits you, the fresh look I mean."

Jay's eyebrows raise slightly before his expression alters, turning to all business in a second.

"Anything?"

Hailey ducks into the car and pulls out a file which she hands to Jay, explaining what they've learned already in the brief time since the events of yesterday.

"Marcie Townsend. Fifty-seven years old. Divorced when Brian was 4 years old. No priors, nothing," Jay doesn't look surprised and Hailey continues, "Brian Townsend: died 2015 at thirty-three years old, served in Iraq as a Marine and was medically discharged the year after he came home. Arrested for misdemeanor possession several times, here's the kicker he had an expensive lawyer each time. Never sentenced or fined. Someone paid for that lawyer as Brian didn't have a solid job the whole time after he came back from Iraq."

"So someone bailed him out each time?"

Hailey slips at the coffee Jay handed her and nods, leaning against the truck. "Any ideas on who it could be?"

Jay doesn't reply immediately, his attention on the papers in the file as he flicks through the rest of it, looking up only once he's done with the initial perusal, "We got anything on Price? Ex-marine too, right?"

Hailey nods, "We'll let you know."

"How about Brian's autopsy?"

"Already on it. Burgess and Dawson should be there by now. You think it's connected?"

"2015, Townsend died. Barnet released that year from County. Price, ex-marines and they railroaded Marcie into not even seeing her son one last time, that's not a coincidence."

"Yeah," Halley agrees, "We'll let you know the moment we got something. You think Marcie Townsend is solid?"

Jay frowns, "I want to say yes. I think she knows something is bad there, but she's too scared to confront it. Barnet has her thinking he's got her best interests at heart while he gets her ever more dependent on Oxy. She told me to be careful, but solid? No."

Hailey nods, accepting and agreeing with Jay's assessment.

"How about you? You holding up?"

Jay eyes her hesitantly before he shrugs as though it's the most obvious answer, "I'm good."

"Did you hear they had a memorial for the little girl? For Morgan."

Jay's eyes give away more than his calm, "Oh?"

"Since I figured you would have wanted to be there or at least nearby. I was instead."

Hailey can see the way Jay swallows, uncertainty and something else unreadable in the way he looks at her.

"You did that?" He says eventually and just for a moment Hailey thinks he's angry.

The uncertainty is replaced though with a ghost of a grateful smile which Hailey returns more certain, more warm, nothing other than reassurance she hopes. "What did I say, Jay? You're my partner. I will always have your back."

"They see you?"

"I stayed out of sight right at the back. It was beautiful, and I wanted you to know. I think you deserve to know no one talked of blame, least of all on you."

Hailey can tell Jay wants to say something. Convey thanks she neither expected nor needed.

"You should go open the bar."

The flicker of what she thinks could be disappointment disappears as quickly as it came and she pushes away from the truck and says quietly but firmly.

"Stay safe Jay."

"Hey Upton."

She pauses, her hand on the door, and looks at Jay.

He smiles, "Thanks."

Hailey watches as he turns away. Head a little higher, load a little lighter, she hopes.

\- - - -

By early evening, Barnet still hasn't shown up. Jay had imagined he would. Already knew what he'd say about Marcie. Well aware that she may have already contacted him and their stories could conflict.

Instead, nothing. He wants the hours to fly by so he can find out what Burgess and Dawson found out at the morgue. The hours crawl by instead though, and quietly he wishes for a sudden influx of people. Maybe even a fight. He gets neither. He reorganizes the drinks in the fridge. Wipes down the bar, but that only eats up an hour.

He thinks about Upton. How he's starting to learn he got her wrong or not wrong, but it's okay to trust her. She's loyal. She's honest. She knows his coffee order, and he knows hers.

The thing she did? The memorial. Jay loves the other people in intelligence. They're as much his family as Will is. More so in some ways, except in blood, than his father could ever be and if he asked. Hell, if he'd _known_ to ask, he knows none of them would have hesitated.

He didn't know though, and he didn't ask. Not sure that even if he had known he'd have asked her. It's too soon. Except Hailey Upton tipped the way of doing things how Jay expects them to occur, or has become accustomed to how they occur, upside down.

It's an unfamiliar feeling or feels unfamiliar because it's been so long since he experienced it. This creeping sense of trust. Of warming to her and appreciating that she doesn't just say the right thing. He's so used to platitudes. She actually _does_ it. Without any expectation of gratitude.

He trusts her when she says she has his back and right now it matters more than he thinks even he can express. It's almost too much to believe when every single shred of evidence Jay has tells him he doesn't deserve it.

It's around 8.30pm when he goes to the stockroom/break room to gather some bottles to replenish the stocks, the door shut behind him when he hears voices from outside the room. Jay tenses and lays the bottles he was holding gently on the floor, steps lightly as he can toward the door, flicking the light switch off and opens it just a fraction.

Enough to see several men. All of them older than him, from what he can tell. He doesn't recognize the first few, though he recognizes the final 2.

Barnet and then the other from the board in the bullpen. James Price. He looks older.

They're deep in conversation and perhaps Jay could've taken pictures, but it's too late now and Jay just observes as they disappear through the door marked for the cellar.

And then it's quiet. The voices fade and Jay closes the door, takes a breath, switches the light back on and deep in thought picks up the bottles, reopens the door, turning off the light again this time with his shoulder and returns to the bar.

\- - - -

It's just after 2am when Jay walks the now familiar route back to the apartment.

Barnet was likely never covert during his military service, or perhaps he's deliberately casual.

Jay turns round one block before his apartment and Barnet stops several feet behind him, he's smoking a cigarette.

"Impressive Foster though a couple of blocks later than I thought."

Jay says nothing, just slips his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Barnet smirks, steps closer.

"You're capable. You're smart, but I can tell that Afghanistan changed you. You stay the route you're on without help, you'll die. Eventually. It'll kill you inside. We can help."

"We?"

Barnet's laugh is guttural. His lips curl in barely concealed disdain as he shakes his head.

"Not so fast. Still not done watching you. Just like you weren't done watching us earlier. Tread carefully Foster, we can help you but we can end you too."

Barnet takes a last draw from the cigarette, exhaling out, the plume of smoke reaching Jay as the wind carries it to him and then with a flick of his thumb and index finger Barnet releases the cigarette and it lands in front of Jay's feet

"On the nail. Marksmen, right? Be seeing you, kid."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you didn't mind 2 chapters and the length of each. Once i start I can't stop. If you're waiting for more upstead, it's coming. 
> 
> Do let me know what you think or drop a kudos, they make my day and thanks so much for reading. Hope you're all good and take care xx


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya, so again I ended up writing another big chapter and so I'm splitting it into two again. Thank you for encouraging me always. Writing is such an escape for me and that you read my things and give kudos and leave any comments helps me so much. 
> 
> Massive thanks to Nons again, more grateful than I can ever express. 
> 
> Any mistakes down to me as always. I don't want to spoil but the first part of this chapter is particularly :/ just to warn you.

He wears a soccer jersey. Manchester United, he tells Jay. One day he'll go to the United Kingdom to see them play, maybe if he keeps practising long enough, hard enough, he'll even play for them.

"What's your name?" Jay asks, crouching down to the kid's eye level.

The kid blinks at Jay. He's got dark brown hair with a fringe that's a little too long, huge brown eyes, a thousand and one eyelashes and the most glowing brilliant smile a child could have.

"Babur," he answers eventually as he holds the soccer ball with one hand and a girl's hand, a girl younger than him, with the other.

"And how old are ya?"

"9," Babur replies, "he nods his head toward the girl, whose hair is tied backwards, she's wearing a dress with flowers: daisies Jay thinks, beaming proudly, "This is my sister Tabssum, she's 4."

Jay grins, reaching into one of his pockets and finding what he always carries, just in case, little fragments of light on patrol amongst the frequent darkness that surrounds this place, this country.

He pulls out the lollipops and hands one for each of them to Babur, who lets go of his sister's hand to take them, even as he hears. "Private," and then, "Halstead," though he doesn't look around at first.

Babur's eyes light up and he unwraps them both, starting with the strawberry flavored one which he hands to Tabssum before doing the same with the lemon-flavored lollipop.

"Thank you Sir," he says gratefully before he sucks the sweet.

"Hey, no problem Babur, Now go take your sister home to your mom and dad, okay?" Jay instructs, ruffling Babur's hair gently before as he straightens and stands up he adds, "I'll see you on the TV one day playing soccer for Manchester United just like you said."

His words are lost in the wind and the way Babur and Tabssum are already walking away hand in hand.

Disappearing into the crowds and the market stalls.

Jay takes a couple dozen steps before his hearing distorts, and he's not standing up anymore. Instead rocks, glass and stones fly around him, onto his body, and then it's only broken noises, sounds of alarms and shouting that he doesn't quite hear.

As he lifts a hand to his ears and pulls it away, looking down at his fingers, he can see crimson. As he manages to stand, whirling around, unsteady on his feet at the speed at which he turns, on the ground there's a river of crimson too.

Someone grabs his arm. Concern etched on their face. It's Mouse, and he pulls Jay away and Jay's obedient, he follows relieved that as his hearing comes back gradually and his other senses come to bit by bit, as far as he can see there's no damage or injuries to the guys in his unit.

Only him and he'll be fine. It was only him who was lingering because he always wants to make the kids smile.

Jay freezes, for a second, before he turns, it's more of a stumble than a run at first back towards where he was.

Through the carnage. Among the screaming and the crying. The wailing. It's louder now, unending, insistent. Jay could be here for the next twenty years and he would never be used to this sound.

He doesn't have to look far. He finds the soccer ball first. Or what's left of it.

Tabssum is already gone. As though she's sleeping. Barely a graze on her. Babur is on his side, facing her, tiny gasps that even in the brief time Jay's been by his side the time between them is lengthening.

There's blood on the side of his head and obvious blast injuries, which Jay knows are beyond help.

Jay holds Babur's hand. Had considered turning him over but lets him stay facing his precious sister.

Jay whispers, in and amongst the chaos, as he kneels down beside the boy.

"Next time, you'll play for Manchester United. I promise you. Next time, Tabssum will be there watching, I promise you."

A hand squeezes Jay's shoulder, but Jay ignores it. Focused on the ghost of a smile, a mere shadow of the smile he'd seen before, that appears and he could've imagined it. It's better than a tear, though.

A tear that Jay himself can't stop in time from sliding down his face as Babur breathes for the last time, one shuddered tiny breath.

There should be more of a fuss for the deaths of 2 young children. Except as Jay eventually walks away, Mouse at his back as always, he knows where do you start?

How do you begin to cherry pick when Babur and Tabssum's stories are not even the stories of the first and second children lost and won't be the last?

Jay jumps into the humvee, dimly aware of the medic shining a torch into his ear and asking if he's okay but his attention is fixed on the road behind him and he looks again one last time, looks away and back again so fast when he sees not only 2 small figures waving but another, someone who doesn't belong here, then again who does?

Then Babur taps Morgan on the shoulder and kicks the ball to the ground and the 3 of them skip away.

Just as Jay wakes up.

\- - - -

"Oh man, if I had a dime for every time I saw a soldier with the expression you're wearing right now?"

The voice pulls Jay from the fog and he looks around him quickly, down at the glass he's holding and then at the person behind the voice.

If it were Hailey or Al or Will or hell even Voight, he thinks he'd see emotions ranging from thinly veiled to unabashed concern.

Barnet looks almost gleeful instead. He's at the end of the bar, his hand wrapped around a bottle Jay hadn't served him so who knows how long Jay was lost in the world he's found himself stuck in all day.

Jay sets the glass down on the bar in front of him and glances at his watch. It's almost 7pm and still there's no sign of Marcie.

It's been 4 days without seeing her. 4 days in which every step Jay takes in this bar or even outside it, he's on his guard in case Barnet's following him.

Of course, Ryan Foster acts like it doesn't bother him. It's likely that Barnet could call him out on it at any stage.

Jay turns back to Barnet and shrugs, "I don't get them that much anymore but when I do," he makes a sign with his hands like a bomb exploding.

"Demons always have a habit of coming back to haunt ya, Foster."

Jay snorts out a laugh even though it's not funny, it's the least amusing thing, but Barnet laughs, genuinely. Like Jay told the funniest joke, and he made the wittiest comeback. Not a conversation, brief as it is, between 2 former soldiers about the damage of war.

Barnet beckons Jay closer with his hand and as Jay joins him, the older man leans in. His breath, a mix of alcohol and cigarettes.

"This is why I said we could help, not yet. Soon, though. Soon you'll never need to worry about those memories again, if you want it that is, my help I mean." Barnet clarifies.

There's no comfort in Barnet's promise, it sounds more like a threat, but somehow Jay finds a smile and a certain nod and an exhale that speaks of relief and hope that someone without Jay's knowledge of everything around this place would probably find in his words.

"That would be great, man."

Barnet's expression turns glacial. Cold, angry and there's a sharp raise of the eyebrows before he fixes Jay with a glare, "Man? Learn some respect, Foster, if not for me, you'd better learn it fast before I introduce you to the others."

Jay hopes he looks suitably chastened even though inside he wants to tell this piece of shit, he's not scared. He's repulsed, yes, but scared and chastened? Hell, you don't have Voight as your superior for as long as Jay has to be fearful of people like this.

You don't live through the experiences Jay has to get scared easily.

"Yes sir," he replies dutifully as though it's 2008 again and not 2017.

Barnet nods, murmurs, "Better," as he slides off the stool and picks up his drink, ready to walk away.

"Sir?" Jay starts and though Barnet doesn't turn immediately, he pauses giving Jay the cue to continue, "Is Marcie okay?"

Barnet turns slightly, "Marcie's good, she's taking some time. She gets confused, sometimes she says a lot of things that make little sense so we give her a rest. Part of the reason I hired you."

"Ok, I'll contact her, see if I can go see her," Jay replies, turning away himself back toward the glass he'd been holding before, ready to put it away.

Till a hand stops him, pulls him around and Barnet's in his face, breathing heavily.

"You want me to help you, kid, you gotta help yourself first. Stop sticking your nose into things that don't concern you. Marcie is just a fucked up old lady who me and a couple of other people help. She doesn't need you, got it?"

Jay swallows, "Yes sir," and this time Barnet looks friendly, satisfied even.

"I like you Foster, you learn fast. It's good."

Without another word, he walks away, picking up his drink once more and disappearing through the door.

\- - - -

Hailey locks the computer and picks up the papers from the printer, placing them in the folder before she knocks on Voight's door and enters when he beckons her in.

"The latest transcripts from yesterday, Sarge," she hands over the file.

"Anything?"

Hailey shakes her head, "Not really, more veiled and not so veiled threats for Ryan to not step out of line, oh and Halstead asked about Marcie, said she's off the grid for a while when he pursued it, he got another threat."

Voight looks up from the file, "What are you thinking?"

Hailey shrugs her shoulders, shaking her head, "We know Barnet's a violent asshole. Has a giant chip on his shoulder about something. We could interview his ex, the one he was in County for trying to murder?"

"You don't think Halstead could find out anymore about her and that whole situation from Barnet?"

"He could, Sarge but even if Barnet opened up which feels unlikely it's only half the story, right?"

Voight considers her words, "We got anything on whoever bailed Brian Townsend each time, hired the expensive lawyer?"

"No, well we think we have the lawyer but he's on vacation and Ruzek and Atwater went to the offices and found nothing so we think the guy's keeping the files somewhere at home."

"Halstead know about the autopsy results for Townsend yet?"

"I'll let him know tomorrow."

"Take Olinsky with you to meet him, I gotta be at the Ivory Tower."

"Ok," Hailey hesitates at the doorway, "Sarge, I got a bad feeling we're missing something big."

"Such as?"

Hailey throws her hands up, "I don't know, that's the point. I guess I'm concerned that the moment Halstead gets further in, what if it's too late by that point?"

"You got concerns about whether he's handling it?"

"No more than I did before. I don't know." she replies honestly.

"Ok, find out more about the ex-girlfriend. See if she's still in Chicago and take Atwater if she is."

Hailey taps the doorway in acknowledgement, "Thanks, sarge."

\- - - -

Marcie lives on South Justine Street. In an apartment. Jay gets the address from Hailey, who sounds concerned but not concerned enough to stop Jay.

It's fairly quiet, shortly after the rush of the school runs but early enough that he can still make it comfortably to open the bar on time, as Jay presses the button to be let in. There's no response and Jay steps backward, trying to calculate which of the places is Marcie's. Luck intervenes when a young woman with a small child opens the door to leave allowing Jay to go in.

Marcie's apartment is up 2 flights of stairs, though there's an elevator Jay opts not to take.

He knocks on the door and when there's no sign of any response, knocks again till he hears, "Okay, okay, where's the fire? I'm coming," and smiles at her voice, then as she opens the door, he grins, "Surprise."

It's not a look of happiness on her face as she sees him, more shock than anything.

"Ryan, the hell are you doing here? How did you even know I was here?"

Jay feigns a frown, pouting his lips and mumbles, "Aren't you happy to see me?"

He's pulled into a hug before he can even blink and hears her say, "You're so silly. Of course I am," as she releases him and holds him at arm's length, she narrows her eyes, "But also you dodged my question, Ryan."

Jay signals behind Marcie, "If you let me in, make me a drink. I'll tell you what you can find on the internet, Marcie."

Her eyes widen but her entire demeanor relaxes, "You aren't going away till I let you in are ya? Ok, so coffee, let me guess you're not a black coffee kinda guy are you?"

Jay says nothing, his thoughts jumping to Hailey for a second before coming back to now, he shakes his head and grins as he squeezes her hand and lets go, walks past her and into her place. That's not as grim or desolate as he had imagined.

It's brighter, more windows than he thought. Pictures on the walls, mostly of Brian, some of Brian and Marcie, and there's a smell of pot-pourri in the air.

Jay looks across to where Marcie's preparing the coffee, pouring in the milk and creamer. Watches her hands which don't shake and as she lifts the mug and walks over to join Jay, he can see she looks less ruffled, more rested. Less wasted.

He takes the mug from her, and they sit down together.

"Peter knows you're here?" she asks him, anxiety clear in her tone.

"What I do in my time, Marcie, is up to me and that includes visiting my friends."

Her eyes light up but it's for a second before her expression darkens, "Does he though?"

Jay shakes his head, "I won't tell him, will you?"

"No, I wouldn't. I trust you, Ryan. I can't remember the last time I trusted anyone."

"Thought any more about the program?"

Marcie looks away, "Some other time. You know, is it a one time only offer or?"

Jay reaches for Marcie's hand, squeezing it gently so she looks back at him, "Never. Come back to the bar though so I can see you're okay? Keep my eyes on you and perhaps I can help you when the craving gets too much."

"See I'd love to, but he told me to keep away for a bit."

"Who? Barnet?"

"Yeah except I'm certain he was just the messenger."

"For who?"

"Mr. Price, like always. You know Peter can be lovely. He's damaged. Mr. Price saved him. Just as he saves everyone. He'll try to save you too Ryan, be careful with how he does it. What he does."

Jay observes Marcie. There's a clarity to her now. Less uncertainty. Less of the fog there'd been when she'd been at the bar. Belatedly Jay wonders if it's the right time to get her to come back.

He wonders how long things'll stay like this at home though. Especially if they find out, he's visited her and they discover she's not as good as her word. If the Oxy kicks in and she's careless.

The clarity is good where the case is concerned though and for now it opens an opportunity as she seems less jittery. Jay tries again. The question he'd asked before.

"What do you think happened to Eddie, Marcie? And everyone else? What do you really think?"

"Oh Ryan, you're like a spy or something I swear I think awful things happened to them all," she falters before after taking a deep breath, she continues, "Including Brian, it's strange that he was doing okay. Not great, but okay, and any messes he got tangled up in. They magically disappeared and remember what I said? He promised."

Jay doesn't know about the autopsy results yet. He won't till tomorrow, except he's already certain in his mind that there'll be similarities and it's a delicate balance too because even when he finds out, even if there's that consistent theme again, what use would Marcie knowing it do?

Especially now when Jay's undercover and feeling his way deeper into the world Marcie's been a part of for so long.

So he backs off.

"Yeah, I remember, Marce." he settles on, offering the warmest smile he can summon before he takes a sip from the coffee.

"You're a good man, Ryan. Your mom must be so proud," she lays a hand on his arm.

Jay sets the mug on the table in front of them, "Yeah, except mom died. A little while after I got back from Afghanistan. Took care of her while my dad fell apart and my brother stayed away."

The bitterness isn't as fresh as it was, but it slips back into place like an unwelcome friend as Jay looks into the distance, building on the story for Ryan that's at least in part a reflection of his own experiences.

"I'm so sorry, honey. Didn't realize you had a brother, is he older or younger?"

Jay glances back to her, "Older. He came back to the city eventually but no idea where he is now. He gave up on me."

"And your father?"

Jay shakes his head, "I didn't come here to talk about me, Marcie."

She looks at him with a pitying expression, "Strikes me you have no one to talk to about you. And I appreciate you have this enormous wall built up all around you and your emotions. I see that, but one day you have to talk to someone, right?"

Jay's about to respond when Marcie continues.

"I imagine talking to me isn't ideal though. Peter, though? Yeah, I'll talk to Peter so he helps you."

Jay peers at Marcie over the top of the mug. Maybe he's imagining it except the concern minutes ago to now and suddenly Barnet being the answer feels so marked in its difference.

Perhaps Price is the problem, and Barnet's misunderstood? Jay suspects it's more of the former and still Barnet's a problem.

Regardless of whether it's real or imagined, it's enough that for the first time since he stepped in the bar, he feels on his guard around her though he gives no sign of it.

"I'll be okay, Marcie."

Her smile is tight, "Yeah, yeah I guess we'll see."

The trouble Jay thinks is that Marcie's not practiced enough. She's not an actress.

Whatever the truth is or the extent of her involvement in all of this. Whether or not it's innocent, whether it's unintentionally leading Ryan to where Eddie and everyone including her own son have ended up or whether there's more to it, she's not as effective at changing the subject or her tone as anyone else involved in this whole thing so far and strangely she seemed better at covering when she was struggling in the bar. More authentic.

At least it's something when so far there's a lot of nothing or sparks of something that burn away fast.

He stays a while longer, as long as he can get away with and attempts to draw any more from her, he can before he heads to the bar, unable yet to convince her to come back. He gets nothing else.

Jay leaves there, troubled rather than reassured.


	7. Chapter 7

"Someone's done well for them self," Kev muses with a nod towards their surroundings as he joins Hailey on the sidewalk on the tree-lined avenue just over 20 miles away from the 21st.

Hailey looks around her, "Yeah," she agrees.

"Then again, maybe it's what you deserve when someone tries to kill you and you get away from a relationship like that." Atwater continues as they walk to the immaculate 2 storey home and its front door with a welcome mat in front of it and wellington boots, all of a different size from adult to kid sized either side of it.

The door opens, Kayleigh Alexander greets them and beckons Kev and Hailey in. She'd been instantly agreeable to them coming over within an hour of Hailey's call.

She's petite. Long black hair, tied in a ponytail and wearing jeans and a sweater. Two small dogs follow her around while she holds a baby in her arms.

"Be with you in a sec, just finished feeding this little monster, going to put him in his basket and I'll come talk, take a seat anywhere," she gestures vaguely to the sizeable living room.

All around the house are signs of a happy, normal suburban family life. No hint of Kayleigh's past.

It reminds Hailey of the Flynn's home. Albeit bigger, albeit more rooted in the current rather than memories of happier times a long time ago.

"Okay, well I think we have a few minutes at least, or usually," Kayleigh walks back into the room, "Sit, sit, can I get you both a drink?"

"No thank you," Hailey replies as Kev echoes her, "Thank you for agreeing to see us so soon," she adds as they both sit and Kayleigh does too in the armchair closest to them.

"I always wondered if someone would come talk to me again. Kind of hoped that the silence meant that he was better. That prison did him good. Makes me sad, how war can change someone."

"Mrs Alexander, how did you know Peter Barnet?" Hailey asks.

Kayleigh takes a breath, gathering herself, "He was the guy everyone wanted to know in school. 5 years older than me. Handsome, charismatic. We started dating when I was seventeen and he was twenty-two. He was so sweet, he had all these dreams. He wanted to be a paramedic, then a firefighter, instead he was a realtor and then 9/11 happened and he settled on being a soldier. We were all so proud. He went on 3 tours. The first couple, it took a week for him to be okay again when he came back."

She shuts her eyes to slow down. To feel more in control of her emotions then slowly opens them, her gaze settling on Hailey and Kevin.

"He said the night before he left on the 3rd tour that it would be his last, he'd set up a business. We'd have kids. He was never violent until he came home that 3rd time. It only happened 3 times, the first 2 times were bad, but they were okay. I was 8 weeks pregnant the final time, didn't even know till afterward when I wasn't pregnant anymore. He could've killed me as well as the baby, he almost did. It wasn't the Peter I knew. Iraq changed him and I've never known what happened, he would shut down each time I tried to talk to him."

Hailey and Kevin exchange a glance.

"Mrs Alexander, you spoke up in his defense. Gave a testimony at his trial? Why?" Hailey asks.

"Iraq killed Pete, or at least the Pete I knew. It wasn't Pete's fault that they had no actual mechanism in place for dealing with trauma. Dealing with seeing his friends die. The things he saw every day? You try that and see if you come back the same so yeah I spoke for him cause I didn't want his entire life ruined. Look at me, I'm okay. I got a wonderful life and yeah, I get that there was no alternative to prison but the fact that you people are here tells me there was no rehabilitation."

"Are you still in contact with him?" Kevin this time.

Kayleigh frowns, "No. For both our sanity I decided not to," she hesitates, looks ready to say something but shuts her eyes once more and glances at the clock on the wall, "Listen, that's all I know and my husband will be home soon. I'd rather not have him worry or bring back the past before I have the chance to speak to him."

"That's okay Mrs Alexander," Kevin responds offering a warm smile as he and Hailey stand up and follow her as she takes them to the front door, opening it and smiling though it never reaches her eyes.

"Be there in a sec," Hailey whispers to Kevin as he catches her eye and murmurs, "Got it." leaving Hailey alone on the porch with Kayleigh in the doorway.

"I know it's a lot to talk about Mrs Alexander, if you feel you want to talk about anything you weren't ready to today, here's my card."

Kayleigh takes the card and holds it as though it's made of precious metal, stares at it and then slowly lifts her eyes up to meet Hailey's.

"It's just a lot. A lot I've buried so deep and it's hard or harder than I thought to bring it back up and I don't know what's useful and what's not."

"When you're ready, let me be the one to decide that, call me anytime," Hailey leans forward, laying her hand gently on top of Kayleigh's before turning away.

She's halfway down the drive back to the car when she hears, "Thank you Detective."

Hailey has the strongest feeling it's only a matter of time before she hears from her again.

\- - - -

Sleep comes at a price for Jay again that night. Babur and Tabssum once more. No sign of Morgan this time, but in her place, other memories.

Memories he's always buried so deep that the return of them? It shakes him. Leaves him trembling even hours after he'd woken up breathless, distressed.

His throat's sore and it occurs to him that perhaps the sound he thought was in his nightmare was reality, a scream of pain, anguish, horror that something he'd warded off for as long as he has chose right now to return.

He's in his car, the heater turned on high as winter feels like it's starting to settle in the city and in his bones. The greyness of the early morning matching his mood.

At least when Upton comes, he can simply hear what he needs to and get out of here. There's not enough between them in reality for him to linger, for her to dig deeper or anything. Even if he'd felt slightly differently before, the last nights of sleep have left him feeling exposed, bruised and he's unwilling to share it more than he has to.

As he hears a vehicle approaching and peers toward it, seeing not 1 but 2 people, it's pretty much par for the course where his luck's concerned these days, he figures. Wearily, he drags himself from his car and shuts the door, nodding toward his colleagues.

Olinsky watching him with an assessing stare. It's not much better when he glances at Upton, she's much the same. Those eyes staring intensely at him. He doesn't waver under the scrutiny. Of course, that's all internal.

"You look beat, kid," Al comments bluntly.

"I'm okay."

Hailey fixes him with a disbelieving stare that she somehow controls and brings down from withering to mere quiet disbelief. Jay's oblivious or a better actor than she thought as he bats away any semblance of concern he could be sensing from them.

"So, Brian Townsend's autopsy?"

Al settles backward, leaning against Hailey's car as Hailey passes the file to Jay, telling him what he'll find.

"It was an overdose, or at least they determined it was a cardiac arrest because of an overdose."

"Oxy?" Jay questions without looking up, his gaze focused on the contents of the file.

"Among other drugs, fentanyl and some coke to be precise."

Jay looks up from the file, grim-faced, "That all?"

"Page 4," Al mutters from behind Hailey and Jay's fingers flick immediately to read it.

Hailey doesn't count, but she estimates it takes 2 or 3 seconds for Jay to find it.

"Holy shit, unknown adhesive substance found near his eyelids and abrasions on his wrists but no sign of restraints found near the body?"

Jay shuts the file and drops it onto the bonnet of his car, raking his hands through his hair, then scratching at his beard.

"I thought it was certain but didn't know if we'd find anything conclusive. Marcie, she has no clue."

"Jay?" Hailey's voice pulls him from where he'd got lost for a second and he jerks his head toward her, attention back on what Hailey's telling him.

"Yeah, sorry," he mutters vaguely.

"Atwater and I, we went to interview Kayleigh Alexander, the ex-girlfriend that Barnet almost killed."

"And?"

"Best testimonial I've heard for someone given he tried to kill her. Said he wasn't a monster, a little lost before 9/11 and then he found a purpose and was fine at first. 3rd tour messed with his head."

"We knew that already though, right?" Jay looks between Hailey and Al, expression confused in part, the rest unreadable.

"Yeah mostly, but it's a little different when you hear her say it aloud. There was something she wasn't telling us. I don't know if she was afraid or something else, she has my number."

"Anything else? We got any more on Price or the lawyer and whoever hired the lawyer to save Brian Townsend's ass over and over?" Jay queries.

"Nothing and the lawyer is conveniently on vacation. We're still looking at Price," Al replies, then adds, "But anything else? Oh yeah, this new gadget, something tech passed onto us. Cracked like the last cell but with a little camera so you don't have to try anything else and that little more secure," Al moves next to Jay, places the cracked iPhone that's not quite a normal iPhone on the bonnet and turns it on its side, showing the volume button, "Press it 3 times quickly in succession and it records, to stop it press the home key.".

Jay's eyebrows arch upwards, "Since when did CPD go James Bond?" He tries it though and grins in approval when it works.

"Keep the old one for now as a backup," Hailey puts in as Jay nods his understanding.

"How about you, Jay? No sense they made you?" Al asks.

"No. One minute Barnet's talking about how they can make me forget everything. You heard right? And the next he makes threats but I feel like that's what they do to everyone, test their resolve, their nerve. It's Marcie who concerns me, I visited her. I don't know if I'm paranoid. She seemed off. Something I noticed about her early on, as if someone was prompting her and that couldn't be the case this time and she seemed okay, you know not as bad as she'd been," Jay blows out a breath, "I think I'm just tired."

Al and Hailey exchange a surprised glance at the admission. It's Al who chooses the words carefully, his tone gentle but careful not to patronize.

"We could put a tail on her or you could pull out, Jay, if you're concerned at any point or we can send someone in, take the load off you a little."

Jay scoffs, "And throw everything down the drain? No, it's fine and I feel like I'm so close."

Just like that, the moment's gone except Al isn't one to give up. He knows Jay better, has the respect of Jay and he couldn't care less if Jay is pissed at him for persisting.

"Okay gotcha, but Halstead, keep in touch. More than you are or as much as you safely can, this case is heavy on you and it's heavier when it's you alone not letting anyone else in."

The intensity of Al's stare is enough to get Jay's attention, to get his agreement even if it's just with a look, which is all he gets.

"Good enough," he says lightly and then he turns away, walking back toward the car, Jay watching him till he slides in and the door shuts.

"Ok, I'll be even less subtle than Olinsky, you holding up? You still solid, Jay?"

Jay huffs, stepping away, leaving Hailey in his wake, cursing silently that she pushed him too far before he opens the car door, bends his head into it and leans forward rather than slides into it, shuts the door again and returns to her side, handing her the coffee cup.

Hailey almost laughs.

"There's your answer, I saw Al and didn't want him to think I forgot him even though I had no idea he was coming and I almost forgot anyway, so it's probably cold by now." he explains quietly.

"It's the thought that counts Jay, "Hailey leans into him slightly whispering, "This our thing now?"

"I bought you coffee twice, it's hardly a thing Upton."

"No other partner ever bought me coffee more than once, and certainly not exactly the right order ever." she pulls the top off and breathes in the smell.

"You just needed better partners."

It's good to see Jay smile, see the lines of stress recede slightly for a moment.

"Seriously though Jay, you're still solid, right? Talking to Kayleigh Alexander, the things she said, the toll Iraq took on Barnet. I know you're not as okay as you want anyone to believe and I know I'm stepping where I shouldn't, I'm just concerned, after all where else am I going to find such a solid coffee buying partner?"

Jay half smiles, "It's okay and yeah, I'm solid. And yes, I promise I'll say if that changes."

Jay doesn't add that it's a big 'IF' that'll he recognizes it in time because in others it comes from nowhere, like a bomb and nightmares may be hard, some memories may have reemerged but none of its new at least.

"Okay," Hailey finishes her drink and then hands him the cup gesturing toward Al in the car who's done an expert job so far at pretending he's not watching though Hailey and Jay know he is.

She moves away before he calls her name.

"Hailey, when this is all over, remind me to tell you about Babur and Tabssum?"

She takes the steps back to his side and lightly rests her hand on his arm, "Later is fine, but if you need to sooner, that's okay too, Jay."

Jay watches her till she's gone, watches the car leave and returns the slight wave from them both. If he shuts his eyes, he can still feel the light touch and the fleeting comfort it gave him. The absence of regret that he even mentioned Babur and Tabssum where normally he'd be cursing himself for going there.

He can almost reach and touch another feeling altogether, that could blindside him if he isn't careful and could distract him in a way he hadn't even expected.

Someone cares and not only her of course, he's aware Al's the same, they all are in Intelligence, hell even Platt too but Hailey's different and if he wasn't so immersed, if Ryan Foster wasn't in the way, maybe it'd feel better as nothing more than a friend he can lean on.

Just now it feels strange though. Inconvenient.

It's Inconvenient as well that he doesn't quite want to let it go.

\- - - -

Marcie's there and it's almost as though the talk never happened. He didn't see her, and the days haven't rolled by.

He can see immediately she's back on it. On Oxy. She's dropped a bottle twice tonight, and she keeps starting sentences and not finishing them.

She may as well not be here, isn't really except in body. He comes close to blowing everything, wanting to shake her out of the stupor she's in. Yell to her that Brian was murdered.

Tell her what he suspects she already knows. Dig deeper to whatever is behind all of this or whoever. Who's behind the ruination of multiple lives that you can use Afghanistan and Iraq as excuses for as much as you like, but there's a hand to this that isn't anything to do with all of that.

It's closer to home.

He hears Marcie clearing her throat as he scoops up broken glass again with the dustpan and brush and straightens as Barnet points to him and jerks his head for Jay to follow him.

"There it is," he thinks he hears her say, and he wants to question it but he feels the dustpan and brush be taken away from him and a gentle push from Marcie.

He's not checked the cell since earlier and he has to hope whatever comes next, whether he's been made or if it's something else entirely that it doesn't fail him.

As he reaches Barnet's side, the man urges him to go ahead and as Jay steps into the corridor, he can see the door to the cellar is open.

"It's time, Ryan, you checked out, you're in," Barnet says at his back, "if you want to that is, but understand there's no going back the moment you walk down those stairs, the moment I shut the door behind us, everything changes."

Jay blinks, not needing to fake the apprehension Ryan would feel because Jay himself feels it. All these weeks of uncertainty so close to the next step at last.

"What have I got to lose?" He manages as he nears the door and steps through it seeing the staircase.

"Exactly, Ryan, exactly."

The door shuts behind Jay and he steps down the dozen stairs down into the cellar, there's another door in front of him and in front of it are kegs of beer and lager, enough to fulfil the illusion of a cellar.

"Open it, Ryan," instructs Barnet, his breath close enough against Jay's ear for him to feel the heat of it.

The door is heavy as Jay opens it and sees a table with chairs around it, a video screen over it on the wall. There's yet another door to the far left of the room but after Jay's quick scan of the room, he turns his attention to the others, feels a hand drop on his shoulder but Barnet is sitting now.

Price, then.

"Gentlemen, this is Specialist Ryan Foster, an expert marksman from the 3rd Battalion 75th Army Rangers Regiment."

There's a low hum of muttered welcomes.

Jay's not played poker in years but as he looks from face to face and lingers on the face of one very alive Anthony Hunt, then looks to his right, sees the flicker of recognition on the final face, he hopes, he prays he's somehow managed to recall everything he learned and knew back in those days.

Because honestly, what the hell?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun-dun-duh! Safe to say we're about to dive headlong into some stuff and yeah. I'm always in danger of revealing more than I intended so I'll shut up, suffice to say there is loads more than has been in coming chapters re H&J. 
> 
> Please consider leaving kudos and I'll always reply to comments as would love to know what you think, thanks for reading and take care and stay safe xx


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo! Every week i think 'This'll be a short one.' Every week my writing brain says 'Uh no I don't think so!' So here I am again with one long chapter, split into two!
> 
> Thank you so much if you left kudos or simply reading/subscribing etc., I appreciate it so much. Thank you too to the amazing nons who gives me so much support. 
> 
> Any mistakes down to me x

Steven Flynn lowers his eyes straight after Jay makes eye contact with him.

Jay thinks he maintains his poker face even though there are a million thoughts bubbling in his head.

Jay also considers that there's a slight chance they've made him already. That they'll kill him whether or not he keeps his composure, but Flynn regains his and stands up, reaching out a hand out to shake Jay's. Giving him a nod as Hunt does the same and there's a satisfied murmur of approval to Jay's right as Price smiles.

"Sit Foster, sit."

Jay looks at Price for the first time as he circles the table; moving to the head of it beside Barnet, staring intently at Jay, scrutinizing him as much as Jay does the same of him.

Price's aged, seeming much older than the pictures on the board in the bullpen. His hair is gray, regulation military cut, blue eyes and a scar on the side of his face.

When Price smiles like he's doing now, there's not a hint of kindness, nothing about him that's comforting.

"So, Foster, you in for this?"

Jay shrugs his shoulders, leaning forward, "I don't know what the 'this' is, Sir."

To Price's right, Jay sees Barnet's nod of approval and Price's smirk. The tension which Jay hadn't realized was so deep in the room eases.

"We're like a family here, we support each other. As long as you stay true to us, you'll be treated as well as you were in the Rangers," Price explains.

"Yeah, those things I talked about, Ryan, the way we're nothing out here in civilian life. It ain't like that here. We keep you occupied so you don't lose yourself in negativity," Barnet continues.

"Okay," Jay replies, "Occupied in what way?"

"Tony, why don't you explain to Ryan what happens here for a few minutes while some of us have a little private conversation?" Price looks at Hunt, who seems surprised and uncertain of how to respond until Flynn nudges him and offers an encouraging smile.

"Sure, sir," Hunt nervously gestures toward Jay as Flynn stands up and walks away. Toward the door in the corner of the room that's now open and follows Barnet and Price through it.

Leaving Jay and Hunt alone.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" Jay asks.

"Iraq," the other man stands up as he answers, reaching for a glass and pouring out the water from the carafe in the middle of the table, "Want some?"

"No," Jay watches Hunt carefully. He's not far off Jay's age except he's balding in a way Jay's seen before when stress makes someone fidget and fidget with their hair and his hands tremble, "You always lived in Chicago, man?"

Hunt doesn't look at him, his eyes darting away to his left as he takes a sip of the water, "Ain't got no family, man, except for those guys.

He gestures toward the door Barnet, Price and Flynn had disappeared through.

"We all got some family," Jay persists.

The look Hunt gives him is a curious mix of annoyance and fear. Fear he doesn't even attempt to hide: fear and something else now Jay recognizes.

Desperation. The way Anthony glances quickly at the door and then putting the glass down, he rounds the table and crouches close to Jay.

"Not me but you know, sometimes I miss my fri-."

Hunt doesn't finish what he said, though Jay can complete the last word in his head as the door opens and Hunt straightens quickly, ramrod straight, shoulders back.

Price is good but Jay can read body language; can read the way he slows and his eyes narrow the smallest bit as he and the other 2 men return to the room.

His smile as he approaches Jay, the way he lowers a hand on one of Jay's shoulders and the other on one of Anthony's should seem kinder than it does. Should mean something good, but Jay can see that Anthony's about as convinced as he is, there's tension in his jaw.

"I trust Anthony's told you how we're here for each other. Never anything less than one hundred percent, right Tony?"

Anthony swallows, "Right, sir."

"Good then, you in Ryan?"

Jay wants to say, 'in with what?'. Jay wants to grab hold of Flynn and ask what the hell is going on?

Instead, Jay as Ryan maintains his poker face, albeit with a small added smile and a sigh of relief.

"Like you even have to ask, sir."

The laughter in the room wouldn't and shouldn't convince a single soul in the world, Jay thinks.

\- - - -

Jay sits in the Focus a few doors away from the house he and Hailey visited back at the start of all this.

He sips at the coffee and screws his face up at the liquid that's now cold. Opening the window and pouring the remaining coffee away then closing it. Tossing the cup onto the seats behind him as he returns his attention back to the house.

He'd barely slept again, though this time it was more to do with the events of the evening. Flynn and also Price in particular. The fear on Anthony Hunt's face, too.

Jay doesn't get the chance to ponder more as the door opens and Helen Flynn kisses her husband on the cheek. She waves before turning her back and walks away along the sidewalk, Steven Flynn's gaze following her till he casts a glance toward where Jay sits in the car then steps inside shutting the door.

It's risky being here. Jay had been careful on the way here and he's as sure as he can be that he didn't pick up a tail at any point, he's unsure of whether he can even trust Flynn.

Jay puts the thoughts to the back of his head because at the moment he's in a position of being unaware of the reason Flynn was there at all. Flynn knows more than him and intelligence. Knows Jay's a cop, which makes him dangerous.

As Jay approaches the front door, he sees that it's slightly ajar. He looks around him, down the street both ways but still can see no one tailing him so he pushes the door once and again till he sees Flynn leaning against the doorway, grim-faced.

"I was expecting you. Saw the unfamiliar car when Helen left and well, I owe you an explanation, Detective or Ryan,"he amends with a frown, "Get you a drink?"

Jay shakes his head, hears Flynn mutter something about needing a drink himself and follows him.

He has a bunch of questions, could yell at him but he knows that won't get the answers he needs.

Instead, he stands in the kitchen observing Flynn as he busies himself preparing the drink before he halts and turns around.

"I thought I was helping David. Introducing him to Jim and Pete. Jim Price and I met in Vietnam. I got out as soon as I made it out of there. Jim found his calling, served in Desert Storm, rose through the ranks to Master Sergeant till he got injured and got out. Jim used to be solid, used to be decent, and I have no idea when it changed."

He turns back toward the counter, pulling a mug from a cupboard and pouring the coffee into it. He moves towards a chair around the small table in the kitchen and gestures toward Jay, urging him to sit too.

Jay shakes his head, "I'm fine here."

"Actually, I kind of know when he changed, he was respectable, he was normal, he was so damn supportive of us when Ella died. He was good around David too. Encouraging when he talked about serving then he got mad. Jim that is, he got so mad because he said it was like history repeating itself. People not understanding what those guys who served were going through in Afghanistan or Iraq. He used to rail against everyone for not getting it."

Jay's thoughts go back to the same anger Barnet had displayed with him on the same subject.

"Jim's always had his fingers in multiple different pies. I had no hesitation in David spending time with him when he got back. I was relieved when he told me he was in contact with him and when he changed for the better, It was like like it vindicated my relief."

Flynn's expression darkens and he looks away, "When he changed I didn't want to believe it related to the bar or to Jim or anything so I asked Jim if I could come with David one time to see what was going on and he didn't hesitate. He said I was welcome, and I got there and found that on the surface at least, it's normal."

"It's not though, right?"

Flynn shakes his head, "They do this thing where the guys they have. That they select," Flynn emphasizes the last word with an air quote, "They call them tours of duty so they mimic life in-country. They never said and they've not said to me how long the tours last, only vague comments about it being a similar period to the genuine thing."

"What happens when they reach the end of a tour?" Jay questions, almost sure he won't like the answer.

"I'm still trying to figure it out but I think it's what happened to my boy, the way he was good for months and then suddenly not. I think they cast them aside, he wouldn't say. Jim or Pete won't say either. I sense the only reason they allow me to be there is because they're afraid I'll ask questions if not."

Jay steps forward, pulling the chair next to Flynn backward and sitting down, leaning his body toward the older man.

"Do you know what happened to Brian Townsend? Craig Farmer? Eddie Stapleton? Or what they're expected to do when they're doing whatever this whole thing is?"

Flynn sighs, picks up the coffee cup and sips, shutting his eyes as he lowers it before his returning his attention to Jay.

"Drugs are part of it at least. You know they got Marcie hooked on Oxy?" At Jay's nod, he continues, "They do stuff that means these guys are all so grateful. Expose them to the trauma so they can recover from it, but it's so fucked up. They try to get them to stay away from their families, they don't disappear in the conventional sense. They house them someplace if they were with their families before or their friends could say where they lived and you've seen how dependent Marcie is on them. She's grateful to them and yet, see what happened to her kid."

There's a sick churning sensation in Jay's stomach and he almost doesn't want to ask but has to.

"Expose them to the trauma so they can recover from it? By repeating what they want through?"

Flynn's grimace confirms Jay's suspicions are correct. Also explains some of Stapleton's injuries.

"You know, they're more impatient than they used to be. The body count is rising and I'm scared for Anthony, he's a pleasant kid. It's worse with him as he ain't got no family. He has friends but Jim made sure he doesn't know they're worried, that they were and probably still are hunting high and low for him," Flynn points towards Jay then, "And now, now I'm concerned for you too, Detective."

"I got back up. I'll be good," Jay responds then counters, "You should get out of town or at least Mrs Flynn should."

"She won't do that. Too many memories mixed up in this city and all, but you're right, I should send her to Cali to see her sister."

"You should go too."

"I want to make sure this ends. And ends without more needless deaths. Also, I may have been the one to sign off on you. If I skip outta the city, they'll investigate you more and Ryan, you may have good back up but you can't have that backup 24/7."

Jay examines the way Flynn looks at him now. Searching for signs he's bluffing, searching for anything that could signify Flynn's the one to worry about, particularly given what he'd withheld from Jay. That he says he was the one to sign him off.

Comes up with nothing except concern for now.

"We can't allow you to stay in if this is some thirst for revenge, Mr Flynn."

Flynn laughs, bitter, short.

"I want justice. I want answers for why someone I considered one of my oldest friends, a brother even, turned to this. Murdered my son, but I'm also not kidding myself, I'm too old. Too tired. I want to get away from this city, these memories. Except if I left now, the memories would follow me and this feeling in my stomach that's so unsettled will never leave me. If my being here at least lends credibility to you, to Ryan and helps, helps you do what's needed to get those answers, then that's all I could want."

After a beat, Jay nods, "Ok."

"I know you'll investigate further also, Detective, me that is. I understand and I regret not being honest with you before but Helen, if she had any idea about this? She's tough, but I don't think she's tough enough for that. She's still close with Jim's family, you know."

Jay's about to reply, but they both look toward the front door at the sound of a key being turned.

"You can go out the back. Please? It'll only raise her hopes, get her asking questions which…"

The words die on Flynn's lips and Jay pushes his chair back, stands up and sees Flynn hold his hand out to shake his, which he does.

"Do please be careful, Detective."

"I know what I'm doing," Jay assures Flynn as he walks through the back door.

"So does Price."

Jay doesn't look back.

\- - - -

"Anything?" Jay asks, skipping the usual greeting as he slams the door shut and walks toward Hailey.

It's early morning the following day. Jay had spoken to Voight yesterday about the conversation he'd had with Flynn and arranged to meet Hailey this morning.

It's cold and Jay hunches his shoulders. His hands burrowing deeper in the pockets of in the pockets of the jacket that's inappropriate for the weather, trying to get as warm as he can but the car's heater doesn't work properly so he's already at a disadvantage.

Hailey allows a slight smile before replying, "Good morning Jay."

Turning the smile into a grin as Jay rolls his eyes and mouths 'morning,' to her then turning all business, she answers his question, "There's nothing so far that jumps out. The bank accounts appear to be normal, though we're going further back to be certain. Flynn was a respectable businessman after leaving the military. Donated to charity, he still does and takes two holidays a year. No priors, just your average guy."

"That's linked to people who may have murdered multiple guys including his son," Jay finishes.

"Yeah," Hailey agrees, "Anything more from you. Anything happen at the bar or afterward last night?"

"No. No sign of Barnet last night. Only Marcie giving me sidelong glances, not looking away fast enough when i caught her, fidgeting the entire time and breaking more glasses than she's done since I've been under."

"Think they know about her talking to you. Increased her dose?"

"Anything's possible," Jay scuffs the toes of his boots into the ground, staring at his feet. Changing the subject "We got anything on the lawyer?"

"No. Kev and Adam have been going back every other day and apparently Kev's wearing the guy's secretary down with his charm but nothing so far. He's back in the next few days if we get nowhere before then."

"Kayleigh Alexander called you?"

"No."

Jay's huff of impatience sums up Hailey's mood. This case is a whole other level of frustrating with the need to trust that this slow build will pay off eventually.

"Okay, well better get back to it. Promised Marcie I'd help her deep clean the bar this morning," He moves to walk away but Hailey's hand on his arm stops him.

"Anthony Hunt, Jay. You asked Voight, remember?" She fixes him with a concerned look that he wants to shrink away from.

"Right, right sorry, yeah, so?"

"Not much. 31, no family. His parents died before he was 16. Brought up in foster homes. Minor priors, stealing, but that's it, no violence. Army at seventeen. Clean otherwise and apparently been living a normal existence since he came home as far as we can tell."

"Who was it that reported him missing?"

"A friend. The same person who set up the Facebook group searching for him. Kim spoke to him yesterday. They're still searching, have no clue he's alive."

Jay scratches his head, "I don't get why and how Anthony can walk around alive and not even worry about his friends. Not even question it."

"How do we know he's not?"

"Yeah that's true. From what Flynn said and even going only on Marcie, they create this world where I guess it feels like they don't need anyone else. Then they get them jammed up on Oxy or whatever else that they don't even know what day it is."

Hailey frowns, fixes Jay with a concerned stare and asks, "Hey, you still with me, you still good?"

Jay almost wonders at the way Hailey can ask, and it doesn't rile him now. He accepts the concern, brushes it off sure, but he doesn't instantly get defensive or not in the way he did before. It's quicker than he thought it would be, then again he hadn't expected this case, this undercover.

"Just need to nail them. That's all, it's the waiting for whatever has to happen."

"Poker, it's all about who shows their hand first and you're playing it well, Jay," she comments before adding, "it's just."

"What?"

She dismisses her thought, unhelpful as it is, but persistent as it remains. This nagging doubt and concern.

"It's okay."

"Hailey?"

"It's like we're missing something big. I don't know what and maybe it's not that big on its own, but what if it takes us somewhere?"

Jay makes a thoughtful sound and then repeats her name and she peers up at him, "If there is something, you'll find it. You all will."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Jay smiles. Certain enough that Hailey feels it: the confidence he has in her and all of intelligence. The belief in them and she smiles gratefully.

"Oh I almost forgot," she turns away and opens her car door. Pulling something from it and holding it aloft before she rejoins Jay, "Didn't think the coffee shop would be open so early so I made some for you."

Jay takes the thermos from her, takes the lid off which he hands to her and unscrews the cap breathing in the smell, the smile reaches his eyes properly.

"Okay, this is definitely a thing now."

"Eh, maybe," Hailey half smiles and shrugs, her cheeks reddening slightly as she hands back the lid to Jay, and he hugs the thermos close to his body.

The quiet between them isn't awkward. If Jay was being honest he'd say he appreciates it, how easy it feels.

Hailey clears her throat, leaning in, her voice lowered even though it's only them, "Babur and Tabssum, you want to talk about them?"

"I said after."

"And I said sooner was okay."

Quick as a flash Jay counters, "I'll tell you now if you tell me what got you meritoriously promoted."

Her expression speaks of 'Really Jay?' without her needing to say it, "One day and besides, it's not relevant to this case for you to know. Me asking you on the other hand, it's doing my due diligence. Supporting my partner with something I figure is related to the case. Could come up."

Jay feels a flicker of disappointment, fights not to let it show, "Only for due diligence?"

There's something unreadable about her expression which drives Jay crazy. He knows people better than this.

"I know how these cases can mess with someone's head, Jay."

"Personal experience?"

"After, Jay," she turns away from him toward her car, not wanting the conversation to go down this road.

"Okay but sooner's okay too," He assures her, smiling as she turns to acknowledge his words.

"You can't copy everything I've said, Jay."

"Can't I? What if it's just another thing we have?" He walks to his car, thermos still held tight into his body though he reluctantly pulls a hand away to open the door.

Hailey looks over the top of the bonnet of her car at Jay, "Okay sure, and I guess you can't have too much of any good things, right?"

"Right," Jay agrees and they share a smile before they get in their cars, start their engines and drive off in opposite directions.


	9. Chapter 9

Jay observes the regulars of the bar with fresh eyes now. Less detached than before and with a realization that they're the lucky ones. Whiling their days away drinking.

Yeah, one day if Terry carries on this way, cirrhosis will get him perhaps, but at least he won't die as prematurely as the others.

At least he's not hooked on Oxy.

Speaking of Oxy and the effect of it. There's a clatter of glass from behind him. Jay turns to Marcie who's bending down trying to pick up the broken glass with her bare hands. He's by her side in a second, crouching next to her and reaching for them.

"Go home, Marce."

She shakes her head, tears spilling down her cheeks, "I can't. You got another meeting soon, Ryan. I gotta stay here and tend the bar."

It's news to Jay re the meeting, but he doesn't say.

"Okay, well, take a minute. Get some fresh air and I'll clean this up, okay? If this happens when I'm not around, use the dustpan and brush, remember?"

She nods her understanding, though whether she'll remember Jay doubts it. She stands up, straightening her skirt as she does and then ambles toward the door in the corner.

Marcie's getting worse and it's like Jay's spinning around a thousand plates trying to keep her safe even while he wonders how much she knows. Flynn too for that matter and that's even before he thinks of Price and Barnet and the danger they present to him too.

Two hours later and Marcie's more composed, so he doesn't feel as nervous about leaving her as he takes the steps downstairs and into the room.

The same people there again, but this time Anthony's eyes avoid Jay's. There are dark circles under his eyes and he's shivering. Jay exchanges a brief look with Flynn and can see the way a frown pulls at his mouth for a second before Price slaps a hand on Jay's back.

"It'll be your time to shine soon, Foster, make sure you're ready, right Tony?"

Anthony doesn't look up and so Price calls his name once, twice but the third time he says it, it's with no semblance of familiarity or patience. It's like a whip being cracked against someone's back. The way Price's fingers press into Jay's shoulder painfully as he says it gives away the venom in Anthony's name alone being called even if the tone didn't.

Anthony head snaps up for a second at most as he whispers a quiet, "Yessir," and looks back down.

The temperature of the room never rises much above freezing the entire time they're there Jay imagines. It drops well below zero in that moment and as Price's hand lifts away from his shoulder, he's not sure he can predict what will happen next.

"Foster," Barnet says from across the room then not waiting for Jay to acknowledge him, he says, "You're not quite ready, go home. Be back tomorrow or when we tell ya. Marcie'll be good for tonight."

Jay narrows his eyes, studying every other person in the room, lingers for a moment on Flynn and Hunt. Jay Halstead wants to challenge the order. Wants to argue against it all and say he sees what's going on even though he's not sure of the intention right this second.

Ryan Foster would do that too, but Ryan Foster also needs this. Needs to not screw this up and so does Jay.

"I need the money," he protests, "Marcie needs my help too."

"Don't worry about the money, kid. Do what I say, okay?" Barnet holds the door open and Jay nods dumbly.

The dutiful soldier.

"Yessir."

Against his better judgement, Jay does what he's told and doesn't go back into the bar. Instead, he leaves via the fire exit and into the icy air where an idea forms on top of another. Jay runs, not sure he can do it in time but willing to try all the same.

\- - - -

Jay watches Anthony from his car as he leaves. Watching as he lights a cigarette and hurries towards the main road, his head down, occasionally taking a drag from the cigarette.

It's almost midnight and the streets are quiet tonight so it's easy to follow him. He's heading toward Sheridan Park, close to the place David Flynn's body was found. Jay makes a mental note to ask Intelligence to check the footage again.

He makes several turns before he gets onto South Racine St and that's where Jay slows the car, leaning across to open the window and calls out quietly.

"Anthony? It's Ryan. I wanted to talk."

Anthony stops for a moment, peering into the car before he shakes his head vigorously and walks faster. Jay pulls into the kerb, deciding quickly, gets out and decides quickly, gets out and jogs to catch up with the other man. He stands in front of him, his hand on his arm, which Hunt stares at as though Jay's an alien and shrugs it off.

"It's okay, man, I'm friendly, remember?"

"I don't know you at all aside from two meetings and honestly, if you know them, you can't be that friendly."

Hunt looks away from Jay and around him as though he's checking for a tail. Someone to jump out and harm him as though Jay's laid a trap.

"What's going on? Listen dude, I'm in the dark here and the more I see you, the more concerned i get. Are you okay? You seemed scared tonight and I don't wanna get jammed up in some situation I can't get out of."

"It's too late for that, man, you're already stuck and there's only one way out."

"Okay," Jay says slowly and then shivers. Not just from the cold though he plays it like that, "It's damn freezing man, get in my car and I'll take you wherever you live, you can trust me."

"I only live a couple of blocks away and don't ask me to trust you. Please?"

"Couple of blocks'll be a lot warmer in my car though the heater's busted. It's still warmer than out here and I hear ya, I respect the distance, man," Jay takes a step away and off the sidewalk back toward his car.

Anthony stares down to the ground before he shrugs, defeated as though Jay forced him and he had no choice. He follows Jay to the Ford Focus and opens the passenger door and gets in as Jay starts the car and moves to pull away till Hunt leans over and puts his hand on the wheel, close to Jay's.

"Can we," haltingly he gets out, "Could we talk?"

Jay turns off the engine and nods, "Sure."

He turns to the other man but not before he notices as Anthony removes his hand from the wheel, the sleeve of the jacket riding up slightly revealing his wrist. Red marks similar to those he's seen before in people wearing handcuffs or any kind of restraint for a sustained period. David Flynn. Eddie Stapleton. Craig Farmer. Brian Townsend too. The marks aren't fresh as in tonight but they're newer than weeks old.

Jay swallows, observing Anthony who wipes at his nose, fidgets, sniffs loud, looking anywhere but at Jay.

"If it's not too late, if you got any place to go Foster, then you gotta go now. Get out of this city and go to the other side of the country, hell the other side of the Atlantic if you can. Any place outta this city cause if you don't, you'll wind up like me. You'll think everything is fine. Then one day you'll realize that actually it would be good if you took too much Oxy, if the cocaine is too pure and you take one little bit too much. It's better than this."

Anthony curses then and lets out a strangled sob and reaches for the door, "I said too much."

Jay reaches his hand out to stop him but he jerks away, holding the door open, "They'll take everything from you man, everything. I got friends searching for me. Found that out recently and yet if I contacted them I may as well put a gun to my head. I ain't gonna go the way the others did though. Not me. I ain't gonna be someone that gets dumped in some alley. Foster, you gotta make sure that doesn't happen to you either. Promise me? Don't end up like me, hell I'd take Iraq over this shit."

He has one foot out the door and Jay has maybe 1 second to stop him, "Let me help you."

The look Anthony sends him is disdainful, skeptical, and he chokes out a hollow laugh, "'less you're willing to pull the trigger, man. There ain't nothing you can do for me, all you can do is for yourself like I said, which is get the hell out of here."

"I know they seem harsh; hard even, but actually Flynn seems okay? Barnet too. Typical military men, right?" Jay tries.

"Flynn? Yeah, oh yeah, Flynn's fantastic. Man, if you're that damn dumb there ain't no helping you."

Jay thinks quickly of about one hundred questions to ask which start and end with Flynn, a creeping doubt in his head. What if Flynn's the biggest actor of them all?

The slam of the door startles Jay and seems louder than it should be and Jay reaches for his door to follow him again but he hears a loud 'Don't' and he listens. Obeys Anthony even though everything is telling him to follow and demand answers.

Instead, he thinks quickly, reaches for his phone in his pocket and waits for the other person to pick up.

"Yeah Hailey? Those searches of Flynn's bank accounts? I got an idea."

2 minutes later, Jay thumps his head against the headrest and then reverses the car, turning back towards where he came from. Like he's going around in circles or a loop and keeps coming up with different answers every single time.

\- - - -

There's a quiet buzz in the bullpen as everyone rifles through old bank statements of Price's and Flynn's. Barnet's too.

They'd been granted the warrants earlier to search further back, and it's been just over an hour of them inspecting the financial records.

Barnet's has drawn a blank so far.

Kev and Adam are searching through Flynn's. Kim and Antonio through Price's. While Al follows up Jay's other request to examine any footage they can pull from the night Flynn's body was dumped by the tennis courts.

Hailey's beginning to lose hope when Kev says, "Hold up, hey Ruz, check this entry," and she gets out of her chair, hovering as Adam stands behind Atwater.

"Yeah, yeah," Adam confirms then looks across to Kim and Antonio, "You two got February 15th 2014?"

"I do," Kim answers, "Just been through February 15th right?"

"Yeah."

Voight's next to Hailey now, watching as Kim's eyes scan the records and she shakes her head, "Nothing for February 15th."

"Try the 16th or 17th," Hailey suggests as she moves to her desk and peers at the calendar, seeing that the 15th was a Saturday.

"Ok," Kim acknowledges and falls silent for about thirty seconds.

"Five thousand dollars transfer what I'm looking for?"

"Yep," Kevin confirms.

Kim nods then frowns, confused, "Ok I got that but the account it came from? It's a bakery from what I can tell."

Hailey and Voight exchange a glance.

"What's the bakery called?" Voight asks.

"Best Bakes."

Antonio types quickly on his keyboard and taps the enter key and after a quick scan, he reads aloud, "Best Bakes, Chicago. Based in Edgewater," he slams his hand on his desk turning to his colleagues, "Owner who won a competition for best local business in 2011: Helen Flynn."

"Sarge?," Hailey starts as Voight holds his hand up in acknowledgement.

"Okay, okay. We need to widen the warrant to search that account too and we cross reference all those dates. I bet we find something that matches all those dates on and around the time someone bailed out Brian Townsend. Do it as fast as you can. Al, you keep checking the pod footage for that night, see if we can make an ID."

"I'll tell Halstead," Hailey says to the room, picking up her phone and dialling the number before she even finishes the 3 words.

\- - - -

It takes all the willpower Jay has in the world not to see Flynn again and demand answers. It takes more willpower still for Jay not to go to the bar and check in on Marcie.

On the 3rd day of resisting, he gives in and walks to the bar. Standing outside, seeing Marcie staring into space beside the bar as a regular waits for her to acknowledge he's there and to take his order.

He's about to push the door open when he hears his name.

"Peter said you were a persistent bastard. Come with me for a little while, Ryan," Jay turns around to see Price in a car that's way too expensive to be owned by a bar owner.

The way he looks at Jay. The way he repeats his invitation again. An order disguised as an invitation. One that allows no argument or refusal, it's so quietly, calmly menacing.

Jay peeks back through the door. Sees Marcie finally serving the guy who'd been waiting. Jay turns back toward Price and smiles, as genuine a smile as he can muster as he opens the passenger door and slides in.

Price drives Jay back to his apartment in silence. A smirk on his face as he pulls in and gestures towards the building.

"Barnet said it was nearby. We could've walked."

Jay says nothing until they're upstairs and in his apartment. The apartment he's made a little more homely with a coffee machine and the thermos next to it.

Some extra cushions that make the couch a little more comfortable.

There's nothing comfortable about being here right now, though. If Barnet's visit was bad, this is excruciating, and Jay's a cop. Undercover. Been there, seen it, heard it, been threatened by it and it still causes his nerves to thrum. If he put himself in the place of someone like Anthony Hunt. Someone like Marcie. It's easy to imagine they'd say anything, agree to anything, just to lessen the fear even by a fraction.

Price makes no pretense at getting comfortable. Stands in the doorway, blocking Jay's exit.

"Anthony says a lot when he's taken a little too much of the edge off with other stuff, he ends up going the other way entirely. I hope you realize that, Ryan."

Jay hides his confusion because he'd checked over and over last night that he wasn't being tailed and he gives nothing away now. Price's words are vague enough though that he could mean in general re Anthony.

"Anyway, not here to talk about him. Here to talk about you and your potential. You excite me, Ryan, but you also concern me. Stop looking out for Marcie and let me deal with her. Stay away from the bar unless we meet too. You gotta be on call 24-7 and you gotta be prepared to be honest and serious with us all."

"But, Marcie needs help. She's gotten worse."

"So, we'll hire someone new for the bar. Someone to make the regulars look something less than half dead for once, perhaps. Put Marce out of your mind and forget about Anthony too."

Jay had asked Hailey to check each day for any suspicious deaths since the late night talk with Hunt. Feeling more certain something's happened to him though without a body, the only way he'll get any more sign of that is if Anthony shows or not at the next meeting.

Jay wants to argue. Figures Ryan would too but also Ryan knows as well as Jay to bide his time, time his arguments.

"Yessir," he agrees.

Jay wonders if Price's smile ever reaches his eyes.

"You learn quick, Foster. You start your tour in the next week. Don't leave your cell for even a second, you hear me?"

"Yessir," Jay repeats.

"Good then," Price turns and opens the door, though his hand pauses on the door and he looks back.

"Don't go near Marcie unless it's buying a beer on the nights of the meeting, you hear me Ryan?"

"I hear you," Jay replies.

The slam of the door echoes around the room as Jay pulls his cell from his pocket and lifts the phone to his ear.

The phone rings out for about ten seconds before a familiar gruff voice answers, ""Sarge, we gotta talk. I got an idea."

\- - - -

"Oh, thank goodness you're finally open. I'm so cold."

Marcie practically jumps out of her skin at the voice that comes from nowhere behind her. She spins around, stopping her attempt to fix the new poster with the latest drinks deals onto the window.

"Oh honey, I think you're in the wrong place," she says kindly to the stranger.

"Oh, that I'm sure of, me and my obsession with all things beginning with C. I'm Canadian," the stranger explains enthusiastically, "Could've been in Cincinnati or California, but no I chose Chicago in Winter. What an idiot, right? Anyway, this is the right place to be, even if it's the wrong city. Anthony told me all about it."

Marcie pales. "Anthony?"

"Yeah, you know him?"

"Well yes, but how do you know him if you're from Canada?"

"I'll explain later. For now, what do you say I help you with the poster and then you tell me if you could do with any help. I never worked behind a bar in my life, but I'm a fast learner?"

Marcie feels like she's been steamrollered. She's not sure how or why? Because she could do with the help. She misses Ryan more than she can say. Even though she'll see him tomorrow, it's almost a week without him except for 5 minutes here or there since she knows he was told to stay away. She doesn't just miss him in the sense of how he cleared up all her messes and covered her failings either. 

It's the companionship that quells her biggest fears and doubts about this situation she's stuck in. Now she's without it and reliant on Peter and Mr. Price again, she feels fuzzy, unhappy and ready to break.

Look what happened the last time she trusted a stranger? It can't hurt and besides having someone younger, brighter and female could bring in more customers.

"I'll have to check with the boss particularly as you have no experience," Marcie peers at the poster in her hand, "But I suppose a few hours of me teaching you wouldn't hurt, right?"

The woman smiles and holds out her hand, "Thank you so much, I promise you won't regret it."

Marcie murmurs, "I hope not," as he shakes the woman's hand and adds, "I'm Marcie, what's your name?"

"Hey Marcie, I'm Paula." she replies as she takes the poster from Marcie with a smile and effortlessly fixes it on the window.

Marcie's unsure expression turning into a smile as the younger woman turns back to her then gesturing toward the door for Paula to go inside ahead of her.

\- - - -

Jay sits in his car a safe enough distance away to not interfere, slumped down in the driver's seat so he can't be seen. Radio in his hand, watching the events unfold.

Watching as Marcie follows the other woman inside. Starting his engine as he places the radio down on the seat next to him and hears Antonio's voice as he pulls away.

"Upton's in. The wire's working."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eee! I hope you 'enjoyed'. So, H and J are both undercover now. We'll see what happens, how Flynn reacts and whether Anthony's still alive. And Jay starts 'his tour' next time round. 
> 
> Do let me know what you think or considering leaving a kudos. Thanks for reading and take care and I hope you all stay safe xx


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, another double chapter. Thank you for continuing to read this story and for any kudos you may leave and your comments which mean so much. I appreciate it a lot x So grateful to Nons forever for your support. Any errors are as always down to me. x
> 
> \- - 
> 
> I just wanted to say that I'm based in the UK and observe what's happened in the US with horror but also with a realisation that our situation is no better, systemic racism is rife through our history it's all proof that I could never sit here in arrogance pretending it's not an issue that's been going on for too long. For all those of you protesting, please stay safe as you can. I will do all I can to continue to educate myself better including how to listen and support, taking action wherever and whenever I need to now and for always. Black Lives Matter.

"Must admit I hadn't expected the tour Price mentioned would involve driving around the city delivering alcohol to Vets groups," Jay comments, looking across at Barnet who's driving the van, "Is alcohol even a good idea for those who are struggling?"

Barnet doesn't look at Jay, he stares straight ahead. His hands tighten around the steering wheel as he shakes his head.

"Alcohol? That's what you reckon is in those crates, Foster?" Barnet laughs. Low. Humorless.

"I figured. We work at a bar. And alcohol, it's the lesser of a multitude of other possibilities."

"You've been watching too many cop shows, Foster," he looks at Jay as they pull up outside a building, "We only supply what's needed. What we get asked for and to our brothers, we supply it cheaper than they'd get any place else so no one complains. Everyone's happy."

Jay doesn't reply. Doesn't get the chance because Barnet's already out the van and walking to the back of it, opening the double doors and Jay feels the rush of icy air reaching him within a second or two.

Also hears, "Well, you ever gonna get out and help?"

Jay does. Jay helps. As they go into an old building in Canaryville. One he's never realized was for veterans. It's a sizeable room with a bar in the corner and a bunch of men of varying ages sitting around tables.

It may as well be a clone for Brian's place. The entire atmosphere's like it. Almost as if it's transplanted here.

"Pete!"

Jay's thoughts are interrupted by a voice and a man approaching Jay and Barnet holding his hand out, which Barnet shakes vigorously before he gestures to Jay.

"Carter, this is Ryan Foster. Specialist Ryan Foster. Served in the Rangers. Ryan, this is Gerard Carter, an old buddy of mine and Price's from way back."

Carter looks Jay up and down before he looks back at Barnet, eyebrows raised, "Another one, Pete. What happened to Tony?"

"Oh, you know. No one stays around too long, Carter. Anyways, I'm showing Foster what's expected of him. How easy what we do for you and everyone else we help is."

Carter's eyebrow raise upwards again for a fraction of a second before he turns to Jay.

"Piece o'cake just like Peter said. Ryan, right?"

At Jay's nod, he continues, "We appreciate what Mr Price and Peter and their guys do for us. Next time, Pete won't be around so you can stay for a beer as a token of our appreciation?"

Jay grins, "Yeah, that'd be cool though I'll be driving so a soda instead."

"A soda?"

Barnet and Carter both laugh as the latter gestures toward Jay, "Hear that Pete, figure you got a regular boy scout here."

"Not for long Carter, not for long. Don't worry," Barnet assures him, "Ryan here'll be singing from our hymn sheets within a coupla weeks." Barnet emphasizes his words by throwing an arm around Jay's shoulder and patting his chest for a second before he lets go.

"I have no doubt," Carter replies before someone calls his name, and he turns, gesturing towards the crate.

"Okay, well, we gotta get back," Barnet nods at Jay.

"Sure thing. Good to meet ya, Ryan, and send my best to Tony when you see him, Pete. Don't forget to stop by anytime, Foster and we can talk about days gone by."

Jay nods toward Carter and watches the other 2 men as they bid their goodbyes. No hint of tension in Barnet's demeanor at the mention of Hunt.

Perhaps he is still alive?

A couple of minutes later back in the van and Jay's got a million thoughts bubbling in his head, most of them centered on Anthony Hunt and also whatever's in the crates. They're all sealed so Jay couldn't attempt to open them at any point even if he wanted to.

He figures that at some point he'll be let out alone, particularly bearing in mind what Carter had said. As for Hunt, there'd been no telltale sign of tension in Barnet when Carter had said his name, but then again would there be? If Barnet's responsible even partly for the deaths of Townsend, Flynn and Farmer and who knows who else? Would he even flinch at this stage?

"So, Ryan, tell me we all got one particularly heavy experience we went through. Torture or killing some kid or witnessing a ton of bodies after a massacre or suicide bomb. What's yours?"

Jay flicks his gaze from where he'd been vaguely staring out the window considering everything to Barnet who for his body language and the bright way he'd asked, it's like he asked Jay what his next vacation of choice would be, not the stuff of nightmares.

Babur and Tabssum cross his mind, but he flicks them away. Half a dozen other possibilities come to mind. Horrific memories. The evil man can strike against others. Some of them his fellow soldiers, even.

The rain's persistent in Chicago today. It's fast approaching the time of year where snowfall's a possibility each day. It reminds Jay of another time.

"We were waiting out one night. Ready to attack, but we got attacked first. It rained so hard that when they hit us, you couldn't distinguish between the blood and the rain. Guy next to me had his brains blown out. 3 of us survived. 2 of the 3 died back at the base."

Barnet whistles, "You made it outta there though, Foster, someone must've been shining down on you, looking out for ya."

Jay doesn't respond.

"I sense you're holding something back though. I hope you'll learn to trust me, us."

"What can you do?"

"We can reframe those memories into something you'll grow from."

Even if Jay weren't undercover. If he was just Ryan Foster, he'd like to believe he'd have enough street smarts to see through it. Except there's a trail of bodies of apparently bright men with torture as part of the trust they had in Barnet and Price to be a warning to Jay not to be complacent.

"Sounds interesting," he replies, sending what he hopes is a convincing enough look to the other man.

"It is but only if you meet us halfway. I encourage you to consider it carefully, to be honest and bring some memories to the table that aren't so vague. Aren't so much what every other soldier could write home about. Next week, yeah next week we'll explore it. Right before Thanksgiving, how'd'you like that?"

Not at all, Jay thinks. Not at all. He manages a smile in acknowledgement somehow, though.

\- - - -

In the week after Jay'd suggested to Voight about Hailey going under, she'd almost said no. Voight too. For various reasons. The timing for one. Flynn having met Hailey already another reason. Losing Hailey as Jay's main contact while he's undercover and the fact that they haven't yet found their rhythm as partners and that when Jay would go to the bar, would it be obvious because they haven't quite worked out each other's tics or habits yet? The still learning how the other works undercover and a concern that Jay's motivation for it was, at least in part, in relation to Marcie Townsend.

For all the doubt though, there were enough reasons for Hailey to go under too. Losing the eye with Jay no longer working in the bar regularly for one and the doubt Jay'd expressed about Marcie which Hailey senses is as big an issue as his concern for her. The chance she'd have to get to know Ryan. To come at it all from a completely different angle where Barnet's concerned and be around when Jay was downstairs at the bar.

And Flynn? Well, he'd not given Jay's identity away unless Price and Barnet and Hunt were all better actors than every single Oscar winner in its history. It was a calculated risk, which if it all went to crap they could easily pull Hailey out.

It's Hailey's 4th day on the job. The 4th day of watching with concern as Marcie struggled with orders of over 1 drink. The 4th day of attempting to break through the barriers Marcie's put up suddenly having been by comparison so low during their first meeting.

4th day of attempting to talk Marcie into talking about Ryan. About Stapleton. About Hunt.

Hunt. She'd spoken with Atwater earlier and there's still no sign of him. Alive or dead. There's a meeting tonight, so maybe he'll show. She doesn't think he will though.

Hailey stops wiping down the bar after the 3rd time of doing it already today and turns back toward the sink in the corner next to where Marcie's tilting her head toward Hailey.

"You got family in Canada, Paula?"

"Yeah. My brothers."

"No parents?"

Hailey shrugs, "Not to talk to, no."

"Uh-huh, I know that tone."

"What tone?" Hailey plays dumb.

"I used to be like you, Paula. Hiding my heartbreak at the poor relationship I had with my folks. It's how I ended up spiralling into terrible relationship after terrible relationship trying to find a love like I never had with mom and dad."

"You ever find it?"

The older woman looks away, across the bar. Her expression is distant again as she quietly replies, "A little while."

Before Hailey can ask anything, Marcie straightens and looks down at the phone she has permanently in her hand.

"Anyway, I hope you'll do better. I figure everyone deserves better than that. Now, I got to go see if Peter's back yet."

Subject closed.

Someone clears their throat and Hailey flicks her head toward the noise. Terry. She smiles at him and reaches into the fridge for another drink, undoes the screw cap and hands it to him.

He nods his thanks, looks in the direction of the door in the corner for a second before returning his attention to Hailey, pointing his finger at her.

"I'm surprised Marcie agreed to you being here behind that but more than that I'm double surprised Barnet did too. Woulda thought having a younger lady behind here would bring back pretty awful memories for him, especially with the links to Eddie and whatever the hell happened to him."

Hailey tries not to be too obvious in the way she responds. Instead, she subtly leans over the bar, grabbing the cloth again and wiping at a spill of alcohol that's not there and mutters a curious, "Oh?"

"Yeah," Terry takes another sip and then leans closer to Hailey, smelling of cigarettes and cheap beer. "Kacey. Eddie's younger sister. About your size, red hair and the sharpest wit you ever heard."

"She died?"

Terry shuts his eyes, shrugs, dragging his free hand across his beard, "No one knows. 'Cept they found blood in the place she was renting. Rumor has it she and Marcie's boy had a thing together."

Hailey plays dumb, "Marcie's got a son?"

Terry chuckles, "Oh Paula, you got a hell of a lot to learn. Or not if you're smart and get out quick," He reaches for Paula's hand, serious and suddenly appearing sober rather than the drunken state she's only ever seen him in these past days "Look at me properly, honey."

Hailey does.

"There ain't ever be anything good that came of working on the side of that bar or even on this side of the bar if you get too close. Don't stay here too long. Don't get sucked in."

He pulls his hand away quickly and looks quickly to his right. Hailey follows his gaze to see Marcie and Barnet watching them. Barnet whispering something in Marcie's ear who nods, her lips set in a tight line. Her eyes avoid making contact with anything except the floor now.

"Yeah. I said enough," Terry concludes and walks back toward his seat as Hailey busies herself, feeling Barnet's eyes on her the entire time.

And when he's gone, Marcie's eyes stay glued on Hailey instead.

\- - - -

Marcie greets Jay with a hug that almost smothers him and as she releases him, she lightly slaps his arm.

"Ow," Jay yelps, exaggerating the force of the slap and right on cue, she laughs though as Jay's attention turns toward the bar and Hailey/Paula and his own smile fades, Marcie's does too.

"You replaced me already, Marce? I'm hurt."

"Oh yeah, well if you hadn't left me in the lurch and joined Mr Price and all, I wouldn't have had to," Marcie gestures toward Hailey, "Ryan, meet Paula. Paula, meet Ryan."

Hailey leans across the bar, her hand stretched out toward Jay.

"Hey Ryan," she greets him brightly, "I'm Paula. I'm from Canada."

Jay eyes her for a second before he exchanges a glance with Marcie, who smirks as Hailey pulls her hand back.

"Paula, get Ryan a beer," Marcie instructs.

"No thanks. I wanna be sharp for," Jay flicks his head toward the door letting the gesture finish the sentence for him.

"First time out go okay?"

Jay frowns, "I guess. Suppose I'll find out soon enough."

"What do you do, Ryan?" Hailey asks Jay, and he has to admit she's good at the wide-eyed friendly, naturally inquisitive sort of innocence.

Ryan has a million and one shutters up though.

"Keep my nose out of people's business, Paula. Exactly what you should do as a matter of fact."

Hailey purses her lips ever so slightly then quick as a flash and with a sweet smile that belies her words, she replies "I'm kinda done with assholes who think they're entitled to be rude only because they've been around some place longer than me. Or they see the color of my hair and assume I'm this cute little person they can push around. Thanks for the advice Ryan, you can stick it up your ass. What do you Americans say, have a nice day?"

She's good at that too. The put-down expertly delivered and probably a long time coming in reality, he figures.

To Jay's right, even as he raises his eyebrows quickly and shakes his head, he hears Marcie's voice.

"Well, we can all see how this is gonna work out right?"

He looks at her in time to see the way she winks at Hailey who's stood next to Marcie now, and rolling her eyes, and then at him. He has to stop himself from doing the same.

\- - - -

Anthony Hunt isn't there. Jay stares at the empty chair pointedly and next at Flynn, who finds something fascinating to gaze at on the ceiling.

"He did good," Barnet reports from across the other side of the table and Jay reluctantly looks away from Flynn and towards the other 2 men.

He half-smiles, "It was easy to sit in the passenger side and help carry a few crates."

Price shakes his head, "No, it's important work. Very important." To Barnet he asks, "Think he's ready to go on his own?"

"After 1 delivery? No. Day after tomorrow, could be," Barnet pauses, chewing his bottom lip, nervous suddenly, "I said we'd start the process next week."

"So soon?"

Barnet looks almost panicked, "Well, we could wait a little while of course, whatever you think Mr Price."

Something about Price tells Jay he enjoys the way people squirm even under the slightest question from him. The older man curls his lip contemptuously before he laughs.

"You worry too much, Peter. Crumble too easy. I agree it's right to start it next week," turning to Jay and standing up as he does, he leans close to him. Close enough Jay can smell the stale sweat and he has to inhale deeply to not gag at the smell.

"You got a topic in mind, Foster? The deepest, darkest memories. None of your chicken shit oh my brother got shot in Afghanistan and all I got was a few lousy nasty dreams after. If that's what you come with, we ain't interested. You want us to change your life? Give us what we need that means we can use and enable you with the tools you need to stop those memories forever."

Forever. He's got that right, Jay thinks.

Jay manages a nod, even a slight smile, "I got dreadful memories and awful experiences to keep this place going for years."

Price and Barnet's laughter seems real. Hell, even Flynn's does until Jay catches his eye and his eyes lower again and he looks like the laugh will choke him.

Nothing much happens. It's a strange dynamic and Jay wonders if it was ever not even when the other men were here. When there were more of them. Maybe there was some kind of veteran's camaraderie that Jay's witnessed the times he's spent around a lot of them before.

Or perhaps the shadow of death and suspicion settled too uneasily to allow it to happen.

Price calls a close to the meeting and they're almost at the door when Jay asks the question.

"Where's Hunt? He's more my kind of my age. More than you guys cause no offence, I figure I got more in common with him than with a bunch o'dinosaurs."

The temperature drops to a level even Antarctica's never experienced Jay muses. That is aside from the hot breath on his neck and the hand that grips his shoulder which as Jay turns his head as far as he can to look, he sees it isn't Barnet or Price but Flynn.

"Hunt's busy. You worry about your own shit and stop asking questions, Foster."

The hand releases the hold on his shoulder and Jay rolls his neck, takes a breath and half-turns, smirking as he does, "You could've said so," then at the death-stares each of the men gives him he shrugs, "Or not."

He pushes the door and doesn't glance behind him as he walks up the stairs and into the bar, sliding onto the stool, not making eye contact with anyone and only then releasing a breath.

\- - - -

"Give him this," Marcie instructs quietly as Hailey studies Jay, placing the bottle in Hailey's hand and pushing her toward Jay.

Hailey sends a confused look back toward Marcie before she approaches Jay and undoes the cap, sets down a mat and places the bottle on top of it.

"From Marcie," she explains as Jay looks up and arches an eyebrow, shifts to his left slightly and holds up the bottle, mouthing a 'thank you' to Marcie.

"Canada right?" Jay queries, trying again as Ryan to be a good guy.

"Well remembered," Hailey leans against the bar side-on.

"And you're officially done with arrogant rude assholes who act like they know it all and don't even give you a chance to prove yourself, am I right?"

There's a flicker of surprise in Hailey's eyes before she regains her cool and shrugs, "Canadian men. American men. I should move to Costa Rica, but I'm sure I'd find they're all the same there too."

Jay leans back on the stool and in a low voice replies, "Don't give up on the Americans yet, Paula," then he takes a sip, watching Hailey as she does and the slight blush to her cheeks.

"Oh yeah? Well, if you know of any American non screw ups, present company excepted, tell them to file an orderly queue outside the bar."

"Present company excepted?"

Hailey shrugs, "Eh, it doesn't do well to mix business with pleasure."

"I'll be sure to remember that," Jay grins.

He thinks he's imagining it at first. The humming sound from behind Hailey, but it gets slightly louder as she nears them both.

"The wedding march, Marce, really?"

Marcie huffs, "You're no fun, Ryan Foster, seriously Paula, he's no fun, no fun at- Well I'll be."

"You okay, Marce?" Jay looks at the older woman as she stops talking. He looks quickly to Hailey next who tenses for all of a second before she catches Jay's eye and with studied calm, regains her composure.

Jay turns, enough to see that Steven Flynn's appearance in the bar hasn't only taken Marcie seemingly by surprise but Terry and the 3 older guys too.

Flynn looks like he's about to breeze by but he stops, looking at Jay first, a quick nod in his direction and then at Hailey, a lingering stare, impassive before he winks at Marcie.

"Pete didn't tell me he'd recruited somebody new, Marcie, who's this young lady?"

Marcie places an arm around Hailey and pulls her in closer, "It's been too long, Steven, this is Paula."

Flynn extends a hand toward Hailey, a smile on his face, warmth personified to an uninformed onlooker, "Paula, huh?"

"Yes, Paula," Barnet says from the end of the bar, "Not my choice, but Marcie tells me the regulars already love her so who am I to argue?"

Jay tenses. Flynn has the knowledge, the potential to blow everything right now. Jay sips at the bottle, studied indifference in the way he acts that he hopes is convincing.

Hailey shakes Flynn's hand, "Hey Steven? Get you a drink? I make a mean cocktail to silence any doubts you may have about my bar tending credentials." Hailey looks from Flynn to Barnet.

Confident. Friendly.

Jay watches the look that Flynn and Barnet exchange. Watches for danger. Instead, the frowns turn to smiles and Flynn lays his other hand on top of Hailey's and shakes his head kindly.

"Nah, I got a wife to go home to and a car I don't wanna crash. I'm sure this guy won't say no though," Flynn lifts the hand covering Hailey's and points at Barnet before he steps away, exchanges a meaningful glance with Jay and walks away.

Another hurdle seemingly cleared. Who knows how many more to encounter.


	11. Chapter 11

Hailey's never been one for long uninterrupted sleep. She can recall dreams from her childhood that would turn into nightmares in an instant.

She can remember worrying about the stress written all over her parents' faces. About money. Schooling for their children. Stress for her mother from the constant guessing game of which version of her husband she'd greet as he closed the door each evening and for her dad that one day he'd go too far and end up in prison.

Adulthood brought different stresses. Once or twice a year, it's as though her body gives up. Has had enough, and she sleeps for hours on end. Somehow it's enough.

It's 2am, and she's in the tiny studio, eating noodles straight from the container and sipping at a bottle of water. It would've been something stronger but she's meeting Antonio and Kev at 9am and she has to drive so water it is.

She's curious to find out what they've learned, if they've learned anything, about Kacey Stapleton.

There's a knock at the door and knowing the times Jay had been followed back to where he's staying, her instinct is to pull her gun just in case. Too many memories of past undercover operations gone awry bubbling to the surface.

She decides against it for now and walks to the door, peering through the spy-hole and relaxes at least a little when she sees who it is. She unlocks the door and pulls the chain away from the door, then opens the door.

"What time d'you call this?" She teases then spots something familiar in each of his hands, "Coffee at this time? You crazy? Or are you half vampire and you don't sleep at all?"

Jay smirks and walks past her and into the apartment as Hailey mutters quietly, Yeah, and you can come in too, Jay."

"What?" He turns slightly at her voice but she waves his question away and instead shuts the door gently, turning to see him checking out her place to live for the next however long.

He makes an impressed sounding noise.

"It's a lot better on the inside than the out. Though the color scheme a little too vomit-y for my liking."

"Well, it's lucky you don't have to stay here then eh Ryan?"

"Eh? Still in full Paula mode, Upton?" Jay teases as he hands the coffee to her and grins at Hailey's eye roll and accompanying middle finger.

"You know the door's over there, right?"

They exchange a smile as Jay sits down on the couch and Hailey sets the coffee down on the small table in front of it and walks over to the kitchenette, picking up the container with the fork still in it and takes another couple of bites before throwing the fork into the sink and the container into the trash.

She joins Jay on the couch, the other end and picks up a cushion, hugging it close to her then pulling the sleeve of the hoodie with one hand to try to get warmer. Jay nods toward the coffee.

"Kinda the main reason I got us both one. They say there'll be snow on the day after tomorrow."

Hailey reaches for the coffee and sure enough it's still toasty warm and she wraps both hands around it and fixes Jay with a look.

"You reckon Flynn's solid or playing a game with everyone, most of all us?"

Jay heaves a sigh and looks away, rubs his chin and return's Hailey's look, "I keep flipping. The thought he's involved with his kid's death? It should be unreal, but this job? Anything's possible, we know that."

"Yeah."

"What do you think? Not only about Flynn but Marcie, do you believe she's in on it? Or is she solid?"

Hailey pulls the lid off the coffee container and blows at the liquid, "I think Flynn's playing the biggest game of them all and I'm not sure yet which side he's on. I do beleive he's dangerous in a way that we don't realize yet. Price we know we have to watch. Barnet, too. Flynn? We have to see which way he flips and…"

"Keep our heads on a swivel," Jay finishes.

"Yeah that," Hailey agrees with a grin, "Marcie? She's trying to hide from me how Oxy is the only thing that's keeping her going while simultaneously killing her and most of the time, it's the former."

"Think she knows more?"

"Undoubtedly. In a bad way though? No sign of that yet. I gotta ask though, did she ever mention Kacey Stapleton to you?"

"No, wait, Stapleton? That a coincidence or?"

"Nope. Eddie Stapleton's younger sister. Kev's on it. It was Terry the drunk guy who sits on his own who told me about her. He may be a drunk but he's still got it. He sees everything."

Jay raises his eyebrows, "He hitting on you?"

"Guys aren't all like Ryan Foster and his whole cute but an asshole vibe."

Jay's halfway through a sip of his coffee and he almost spits it out but stops himself in time and throws her a mock offended look, "Cute but an asshole? I'll take that on my gravestone."

"Keep talking like you do to Paula, Foster and it'll be sooner than you think."

Jay's laugh is genuine, and she realizes she's heard it only once before, "Noted. Also, what you said about the guy being around longer than you and acting the asshole," Jay's expression turns serious to match his tone in an instant, "I realize I've been hard on you. It's bad timing. Everything was bad timing."

"It's okay, Jay. I was playing the role. It's about a bunch of guys Paula's encountered in her life."

"Still," Jay insists, "I guess I'm trying to apologize if I made it harder for you just because everything was harder for me."

Hailey's sensed for a while even going back to the coffee thing they have that everything was less fraught at least and that each time Jay's brought coffee too. Even at this time of the morning, it's Jay attempting to bridge the gap, the distance between them.

She's had partners before. Was certain at one stage that Jay would be one of the short-lived ones. Her desire to stick by the rules, to not cave and her own scars clashing with the confidence in Jay dented by tragedy and abandonment leaving him at once cold, bruised and defensive.

And sure they have to bond and bond realistically through this if there's any chance of seeing this through but this is Jay not Ryan and she's Hailey now not Paula.

She half stands and leans towards Jay, her hand reaching out to shake his. He looks almost surprised at the formality, but reciprocates. His grip strong, his hands warm from holding the coffee cup.

Despite the coldness outside, it's almost like the first warm day after the coldest winter.

It's maybe a second too long, if that, the way they shake hands and their hands stay locked together. Merely a second but Hailey blushes as she pulls hers away and Jay scratches at his neck, clears his throat and Halstead. The detective version is well and truly back.

"Kacey Stapleton though?"

"Yeah. Kev's on it. Spoke to him a little earlier. Seeing him and Antonio in," she glances at the watch on her wrist and yawns involuntarily, "5 hours."

Jay drains the rest of his coffee and pats the couch with one hand, "My cue to go. And I got deliveries tomorrow too, so I should be going."

"Think they'll let you deliver on your own soon?"

Jay shakes his head and shrugs, "Before the last couple of minutes of the thing downstairs, I'd have said yes, but they flip so fast so I got no idea."

Jay walks to the kitchenette and places the disposable cup in the trash and walks back to face Hailey. Looking for all the world like he wants to say more but it's like he has a conversation in his own head and dismisses it.

"Jay? Babur and Tabssum?"

He glances at her then shakes his head, frowning, "Not yet, stay safe Hailey."

Hailey wants to drag him back. Wants to sit him down and make him talk. Make him admit to the memories before someone who's not as careful as she'll be pulls them from him involuntarily.

The progress they made, though. The tiny steps and those olive branches that could snap at any moment stop her.

And he's already out the door, pulling it shut quietly to not wake the neighbors as she replies, "You too, Jay, you too."

\- - - -

Hailey's early but Antonio and Kev are already there as she pulls up, in the car she's got for the UC, underneath the bridge, turns the engine off and pulls on the pair of gloves, savoring the last bit of heat before she opens the door and the wind has her reaching for her scarf too.

She climbs out of the car at the same time as the other two get out of Kev's car and greets them with a nod.

"Hey Upton, how ya holding up?" The older man asks her.

"Cold," she replies as another gust of wind buffets the 3 of them.

"That was a close shave with Flynn last night. No one tailed you last night?" Antonio queries.

"No, I was careful and I always take a different way back too."

"Smart."

"Like I said, this isn't my first rodeo," Hailey grins, it grows wider at the quick glance Atwater and Dawson exchange, "Anyway, anything on Kacey Stapleton?"

"That's me," Kev hands over the file he's been holding which Hailey opens and scans quickly as he continues, "Kacey Stapleton, twenty-three years old when she disappeared.

"They ever found any trace of her?"

"Nope."

Hailey continues to turn the pages, "Who reported her missing?"

"That's the crazy part, turn to the last page," Atwater instructs, pausing as Hailey complies.

Hailey's eyes widen as she looks up, "Brian Townsend."

"Keep reading."

Hailey glances from Kevin to Antonio and scans the missing persons report.

"So, Terry from the bar got that part wrong at least," she muses, "More like a sister to him than anything else."

"Yep," Kevin says, pulling the toothpick from his mouth for a moment, "That's all we got. They found nothing to suggest she'd been harmed apart from the blood in her apartment which wasn't fresh and Brian's word so they closed the case."

"That was March 2015. Within 6 months, Brian Townsend was dead." Antonio adds.

Hailey's mind races, "It's odd that Eddie didn't report her missing. Barnet was released in February, right? Kacey Stapleton disappeared a month later," she shakes her head at the file then looks at each man "Every time I feel like I got this case figured out a little, something like this happens and I'm not so sure again."

"You got that right," Kevin agrees.

"Marcie's not said anything to you or Jay about Kacey?"

"No," Hailey confirms, "I saw Jay earlier and told him and it was the first he'd heard of her. It's jso strange. When you and Ruzek were looking at the Cross and found the posts about Search for Anthony and Memorial for Craig Farmer, there wasn't anything about looking for Kacey?"

"Not a thing," Kevin replies, "And I did a quick search before I came to be certain and nothing."

Hailey sighs, rubbing her chin as she scans through the file again, "Are Eddie and Kacey's parents still alive?"

"No."

"Any other siblings?"

"No. just Eddie before he died, which leaves Amelia and her kids."

"Spoken to Amelia?"

"Burgess is on it today," Antonio confirms.

Hailey closes the file, "I guess I should talk to Marcie. If Kacey and Brian were close..."

"Yeah. I was going to suggest that but you beat me to it," Antonia agrees, "You holding up?"

Hailey deflects, "Not my first rodeo and I'm just working in a bar. It's Halstead at the real deep end."

Atwater gives her a skeptical glance and shakes his head, "Ok, so how do you think Halstead is doing? But also this bar has a habit of getting people killed or disappearing so you be careful too, y'hear?"

Hailey reacts with a slight smile, "I hear. I'm good. My biggest risk is that I get fired for not pouring the beer right and Jay, well, you've worked with him longer than me."

"Enough said and yeah we have. Ok, but like he said," Antonio gestures toward Kevin then points to Hailey, wagging his finger like she's twelve rather than approaching her thirties, "You, be careful."

Hailey laughs recalling the conversation with Jay, "I know, I know. Keep my head on a swivel. I will," She shifts the fabric of the glove on the wrist where she has her watch on and glances at the time, "I'd better go."

She walks back to her car but stops, "Anything on the lawyer yet? Any more on the bank accounts?"

"He's back next week and me and Ruz are going to have a talk with him. Hopefully, we'll find out more about the bank accounts and who contacted him each time to bail Townsend out."

"Yeah. Be good to take a step forward rather than multiple steps back for once."

"I hear that, Upton."

She waves at the two men as she slides into the car. Feeling the absence of a coffee and not just for the warmth she could do with right now.

\- - - -

The days crawl by into the following week as the weather worsens and the temperature plummets.

Jay's finally allowed to do the deliveries on his own. It's his second day of it. Not that it reveals much. It's as if Price or Barnet have forewarned everyone to only nod at him as he delivers the crates and then they turn away immediately.

It gives him time to think which isn't necessarily the best thing. He misses the contact of the job. Everyone in Intelligence. He misses Marcie despite the doubts and as he casts an eye towards the thermos, he also sort of misses Upton.

It's not an option to go to her place too often at this stage. If it ever will be. If Price, Barnet, Flynn, whoever the hell is suspicious enough to tail Jay again then right now, there's no real reason for it.

Last week had been a risk. A worthwhile one maybe, but still a risk.

Anyway, yes, he misses the honesty. Her honesty. The way she doesn't hesitate to ask the difficult questions. It's hard to answer them, but it's simpler too without the feelings he'd had for Lindsay.

Lindsay. He needs not to open that can of worms. Those feelings buried even deeper than the ones about the little girl. Tabssum and Babur and all the other memories he's buried deep.

The memories that tonight he must try to pick one from them all. One that won't have him lose himself and the entire case in the process.

He rolls his neck as he slows the van and picks up the clipboard, glad that he's got a distraction just at the right moment.

Jay jumps out and slams the door behind him. A second later he feels the telltale moisture on his nose, and again so he looks up toward the sky.

Snow. Right on time. It's almost Thanksgiving. It'll be a different one this year. No Will. Making do memories of good thanksgivings and also bad ones too instead.

He pulls open the door and reaches for the crate. It's lighter this time. Noticeably lighter, but any hope Jay had of finding out easily what's in them disappeared the moment he realized how little they trust him.

Each crate sealed like every other day and yeah sure, he could attempt to break this one open but he's in this for the long haul or as long as it takes to unearth the truth.

"You Foster, right?" A voice to his right barks.

Jay whirls around, "Yeah, man."

The guy's tall. Tattoos adorn his arms, which are probably twice the size of Jay's. Everything about him's like he's twice the size of Jay.

He goes to take the crate from Jay who shifts back a step, the other man's eyes narrow and his lips thin into a straight angry line.

"Gimme the crate," It's not a request. The man's tone makes that clear, "I don't know you. I don't trust you. Give me the goddamn crate."

Jay does. Without argument and in silence. The man turns, hands the crate immediately to a younger man who's about the same size and they disappear inside.

With a quick glance upwards as a reminder to himself of the name of the bar, Jay slams the door shut and walks around to the driver's side and slides in wondering what a search will reveal about the place.

If he knows nothing else, he guesses that along with what's beginning to look like everything in this case and to do with the bar, it will turn out to be bad news.

\- - - -

Hailey's not found the right moment to ask Marcie yet about Kacey.

Mainly because Marcie's been so high on Oxy, she's sometimes incapable of answering a simple yes or no question without it appearing like you've asked her to answer the most complex mathematical question.

Today's different, she seems sharper. Happier even but as a result it's been even less of the right time to broach the subject.

For a few minutes, Hailey had wondered what had her so chipper. So 'with it'. If she was in any doubt before, she's certain now as Marcie looks at the clock on the wall and towards the door as it opens.

Her shoulders slump when Jay's not there but he's due soon. The meeting's in twenty minutes. The big one.

Apprehension is the most appropriate word to describe Hailey's emotion right now. In an attempt to hide it and avoid questions from Marcie, she herself cleaning the bar for the umpteenth time today.

Hailey doesn't even need to look towards the entrance to know when he arrives. Marcie makes a sound that can best be described as a shriek of delight and as Hailey turns her head and sees Marcie stand opposite where Jay lays a hand, she catches Jay's eye for a moment.

Jay's seasoned as they come and Hailey doesn't know him that well. He really is good at covering and it's not in his eyes where she sees the tension. As he slides onto the barstool and his shoulders are ramrod straight rather than the usual way he relaxes is a way to see the tension and when he casts a glance toward the door in the corner and then covers his mouth with his hand and drags it down across his chin.

It's only a few seconds, and she notes it without comment. She can't be Hailey Upton here. Maybe later or in a couple of days but not tonight.

Instead, she stands next to Marcie and slaps a napkin down in front of Jay and says, "Get you a beer?"

Jay opens his mouth to reply but Marcie shakes her head and taps Jay's hand that's worrying at the napkin already then as she replies she looks at Hailey sternly.

"No, Paula, see this is why you're good at the general bar stuff but you gotta sense in your head what the customers need and Ryan here, he needs a double."

Jay starts to protest but Marcie wags a finger and then taps his hand lightly, "A double it is."

"But I gotta drive all day tomorrow? Early start and all."

"It's just one double, Ryan. You can have all the water you need to sober up down there. Stop being so by the book, Ryan and let me get you a double."

The sigh from Jay is heavy but the air goes out of him along with the fight and he sighs, "Ok, given that I doubt you'll ever shut up if I said a beer would be fine then a double it is."

Marcie lifts a thumb up and then turns away leaving Jay and Hailey to watch her for a moment before Hailey asks, "You okay, Ryan?"

Jay smiles, "I'm good, Paula. You?"

She shrugs, "Eh, coffee withdrawal these past few days but I'm surviving under the circumstances."

Jay grins, "There's a lot to be said for coffee."

"There is," she agrees adding, "also, it's a thing with me," Hailey enjoys the way Jay's shoulders loosen, the tension easing. The grin that reaches his eyes for a moment.

"Ok, here you go," Marcie announces as she places the glass in front of Jay who's still looking at Hailey.

Of course, Marcie doesn't miss it. Despite the Oxy whether she's off it and struggling or on it and hazy, there are some things Hailey doubts she ever misses.

Marcie laughs, "Ok, Ok. I see you two. Particularly you Ryan."

Jay holds his hands up and splutters as he lifts up the glass to take a sip, "What?"

"Huh. Don't kid a kidder, Ryan Foster. Okay so, it's almost Thanksgiving and Paula here is without family in this city and I got no family. And you, Ryan?"

"Like I said before, I got family. However, me visiting them at thanksgiving would be as welcome as a fart in an elevator."

"Your turn of phrase sometimes, Ryan, honestly. Anyway, you two are invited to my apartment for Thanksgiving and before you say it, no is not an acceptable answer."

Jay takes another sip from the glass and nods towards Hailey, pointing his thumb toward Marcie, "Think she'll ever shut up unless we say yes, now?"

"Uh, no, right Marce?"

Marcie nods, "So that's a yes?"

Hailey and Jay exchange a glance and Jay shrugs. It can't hurt and maybe they can get Marcie to open up about Kacey Stapleton.

"Yes, it's a yes Marcie."

Marcie looks ready to clap her hands but her hands freeze in mid-air and Hailey sees her nod toward Barnet.

"Ryan," she nods toward the door and Jay turns his head, drains the drink and nods at both Hailey and Marcie before he pulls two bills from his wallet and slaps them on the bar, slides off the stool and walks away.

Hailey crosses her fingers. In her head at least.

\- - - -

Jay decided on the story he'll tell on the way over. Bad enough memories to haunt anyone but not so bad that he's not shared them before.

He follows Barnet down the stairs and fights to suppress a yawn.

He's not surprised that Hunt isn't there. Jay is surprised that Flynn isn't or not obviously so anyway. It's only Price and Barnet.

"Hey Ryan, tonight's the night," Price smirks.

It sets Jay's teeth on edge and he reaches for the carafe of water on the table and pours into a glass, takes a sip and concentrates on slowing down his breathing.

He holds the glass and smiles, "It is. I'm ready."

Barnet and Price say nothing, just look at each other as if they're waiting for something. Someone. Flynn perhaps?

Two things happen. The first?

Jay goes to put the glass down but his coordination's off and the glass smashes to the floor and he looks confusedly at it, hearing Price approach him and mutter, "Well, that's awful clumsy, Foster."

Price's hand clamps onto Jay's shoulders. His fingers, or at least Jay thinks it's his fingers dig into Jay's neck sharply and he flinches.

The second? Jay barely registers the second. Just disorientation followed by a momentary thought of 'Oh fuck," as the ground comes up to meet him and the lights go out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Just for context and from where we started with the first small scene and then the flashback to 3 months earlier, we're over halfway into that 3 months now. Also, I was wondering as there are a fair few twists with characters, if you think a recap at the start of each chapter would be good, let me know. Anyway, sorry for waffling. 
> 
> As always if you enjoyed these chapters, please consider leaving some kudos or a comment. They motivate me so much. Stay safe xxx


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, thank you fas always for leaving kudos and any comments which give me reasons to smile and keep writing. Here's 1 chapter but split into 2 once more, 
> 
> A big thanks as always too to Nons for her amazing kindness and support. 
> 
> Any errors etc. down to me as always.

Hailey left the bar when it closed reluctantly. Not without considering ways that she as Paula could try to find out what was happening.

Marcie had disappeared for most of the time till closing after Jay had walked through the door though. And there were no alternatives. None of the regulars were sober enough to monitor the bar for even two minutes.

Ten minutes before closing time and Marcie had returned, urging everyone to leave because the snow was falling more heavily. Avoiding eye contact with Hailey the whole time.

She'd ushered Hailey out of the door quickly and in a way that could only raise Hailey's suspicions more.

Now it's almost 4am and there's no sign of Jay. There's nothing to suggest he's in trouble. Nothing aside from the fact that every other time a meeting had finished since Hailey had gone in as Paula, he'd gone back to the bar.

Then again, tonight or last night had been or meant to be, anyway, the time where Jay had expected to have to reveal painful memories so perhaps Jay had just wanted to leave.

It's odd he's not messaged her to tell her he's okay. Or is it? It's where them not knowing each other so well comes in. Is it normal or not?

She falls into an uneasy sleep. Though not for long. A message alert sounds loudly around thirty minutes later and she opens one eye, reaching for the phone and opening the other to look at it.

It's an unknown number with a brief message.

700 N Campbell Ave. Alley on the left side.

Hailey holds the phone up to her ear as she dials it and gets out of bed. She gets a message saying the phone is out of service. A burner phone, probably. It does little to dispel her nerves as she pulls on a pair of jeans, a sweater, a jacket and scarf and a pair of boots as quickly as she can.

The night is crisp though thankfully not too cold and there's no hint of snow in the air now. Still, she turns on the heater in the car and shivers involuntarily as she starts the engine and pulls away, checking behind her in the mirrors for any sign of a tail but there is none.

North Campbell Ave is nearly 4 miles away from Hailey's studio and given it's night, she gets to the address in a little over ten minutes.

She pulls up close to the address on the text in front of a garage and peers down the alley; the street lights illuminating the alley a little in the darkness.

Hailey doesn't have to walk far before she sees someone's feet in between two trash cans. She approaches them quickly, knowing already who she'll find.

Jay's sitting up, or more appropriately, is slumped against a garage. As she crouches down next to him, she's relieved at least that Jay's wearing his jacket. That he's shivering too.

"Jay?" she gently taps his face and his eyes half open.

He blinks at Hailey, mumbles something that sounds like, "Erin?" and blinks again as he looks toward the direction of the street and its lights. Hailey thinks he's about to speak, but he groans and his face crumples as he cries quietly.

"Jay, it's okay," she gently brushes the tear away from his cheek, half expecting him to push her hand away. Too intimate a gesture perhaps, but he doesn't, he seems barely aware she's doing it.

He sighs, but it turns into a shiver again.

It's doing him no good being here in the cold so mind made up, Hailey whispers, "Jay, I'm going to get you into the car and back to my place. You can warm up there."

He blinks at her.

"You understand what I said, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles in reply.

It takes 5 minutes. 5 minutes of going back down memory lane in her early days of being a cop, helping drunk people to their feet. Drunk people normally much larger than her. And heavier.

It gets easier the closer they get as Jay seems to become a little more aware and doesn't lean so heavily on Hailey.

He's able to get himself into the car pretty much by himself too. He's quiet in the car back to Hailey's apartment. Head leaning against the window, his eyes closed, and he makes it up to the apartment without too much help. Hailey hovering next to him in case he stumbles or falls.

\- - - -

Ten minutes later and Jay's on the couch, hands wrapped around a mug as Hailey fills hers and sits down next to him, feeling his forehead with the back of her hand.

"Mom used to do that all the time," he murmurs, his eyes closed as he leans his head back.

"Just checking you didn't have a fever."

"I don't."

"No, you don't. What happened Jay? You don't have alcohol on your breath or not a lot, anyway. How d'you wind up there?"

Jay shrugs, his eyes still closed before he opens them again, though it looks like a monumental effort to open them.

"I can't remember anything. Last thing I remember is driving in the van, vague memories of being in the bar. Everything's hazy after that. At least we have the wire, right?"

"Yeah," she agrees then after a moment of thinking adds, "Maybe we should get you to Med?"

Jay's eyes fly open at that as he shakes his head vigorously and his voice rises, "And risk blowing the op? No way."

"Okay. But something made you forget everything, and it doesn't seem like alcohol, so what if it's something else? We could call Will or we should call Voight or someone instead."

Jay yawns, shaking his head again, "Not Will, I don't want him involved and whatever it is it can wait."

Hailey wants to tell him that there's a chance it won't. She also wants to tell him she's concerned, but she doesn't. Instead, she lets it go, for now, "You should sleep."

"Time is it?"

"It's almost 5am."

Jay rises, "I should go. I have to be out delivering by 10am."

Hailey shakes her head, "Not today you don't Jay, or at least not this morning. Sleep, use the bed. I'll sleep right here."

He looks ready to argue but his shoulders slump and he nods, a grateful smile emerging on his face.

"Thanks."

"If you need the bathroom you remember where it is, right?"

Jay raises his hand to acknowledge her but doesn't look back, she watches him as he walks, his head down, to the side of the bed nearest to the window and almost collapses onto it. Not bothering to move the covers or slide under them.

He just lies on top of the bed. Within two or three minutes, she can hear him snoring softly, but as she closes the blinds, she can see him shiver slightly every few seconds. Hailey walks to the wardrobe and stretches her arms upwards pulling down 2 blankets, closes the wardrobe and walks over to the bed, unfolding 1 of the blankets, placing the other between her legs and laying the unfolded blanket gently on top of Jay. Smiling as she sees the shivering ease.

She walks back to the couch turning off the lights along the way as she wraps the blanket around her, lays her head on a cushion on the couch, stretches her legs out and shuts her eyes.

\- - - -

Hailey had managed ten minutes of sleep before old memories had come back to haunt her.

Memories and nightmares that reemerge every time she's under some level of stress and worry. One face that she doesn't want to forget but wishes she could remember differently and without those who always accompany him, the face that turns it into a nightmare each time.

Jay had a fitful sleep. Occasionally making sounds of distress, though never enough to warrant Hailey's intervention.

In the time Jay was asleep, she'd called Voight. She's already bracing herself for being the bearer of unwelcome news.

When Jay wakes and gets out of bed, he doesn't look her in the eyes at first. Instead, he walks slowly past her to the farthest point away on the couch and sits down, his head low.

"Get you a drink?" Hailey asks.

Jay shakes his head and sighs, "I feel like I should remember what happened but I don't. Instead, I'm left here feeling like I got run over by a truck. You know I've felt helpless a bunch of times before. This, though? It's different. Reminds me more of."

His voice trails off. He looks away into the distance. Hailey says nothing, allowing him the space to talk or even think quietly, then Jay starts again.

"Still, at least the wire'll give us what we need, right? Time, is it? Can we check in? Find out."

Hailey frowns. There's no sugarcoating this. No painless way to tell him.

"The wire cut out almost immediately after you went downstairs. Interference. All they got was a lot of screeching and feedback. We got nothing useful, Jay."

She waits for the anger. The frustration. It's almost worse when it doesn't come and Jay's eyebrows arch upwards slightly for a second before his shoulders slump and he chews at his lip.

"You think they made me?"

Hailey had thought about this, the possibility. Had discussed it with Voight, "No. I just think whatever it was, a technical issue or something with the wire, we were unlucky. I think if they'd made you or me, we'd still be looking for you or maybe we'd all be starting to worry right about now."

Jay's quiet as he absorbs her words and nods, seemingly in agreement, "Why can't I remember, Hailey? Did I drink that much? I have brief flashes. Little pockets of memory. I remember feeling euphoric at some point. I don't think I ever lost full consciousness, I was just out of it."

"Perhaps it _was_ drugs?"

"Yeah. I have this vague memory of you earlier saying we should've gone to med. You were right, or we _should_ have called Will or Voight."

"I already did. Call Voight, I mean. That's how I know about the wire. I wanted them to see if they could find anything out about the number that texted me to tell me the address to go where I found you."

Jay's eyes open wider and he looks at Hailey properly for the first time, "Oh?"

"Yeah. Not a number I recognized. Turns out it's a burner phone."

"Paula's number," At Hailey's nod confirmation, he asks, "Who has Paula's number?"

"Anyone with access to the form Marcie had me fill out the day I started."

"So, Flynn, Barnet, Price."

"Yeah, also Hunt and Marcie."

"Marcie? Really and Hunt, he's likely to be dead."

"Except, we don't have a body," Hailey points out, "And no, probably not Marcie but she has access and whoever it was didn't want us to find out who they were _and_ they had had access to a burner phone."

"Yeah, so what'd Voight say?"

"Well once, he finished yelling at me for not taking you to med, he said that Kev and Adam will see Healey tomorrow at his home, he's agreed even though it's Thanksgiving and Voight wants to see you tomorrow too. They'll give you a new wire."

"Ok," Jay acknowledges, "The lawyer?"

"That's right."

"And Thanksgiving, wait, did I imagine that Marcie invited you and me to her place for it?"

"No, you didn't. It's good that your memories are returning."

Jay only looks half convinced, "Yeah."

"What's up?"

"Let's say they drugged me, let's say we're right, and they did this stuff for months with some of these guys. Why was that? Was it to get me or them to reveal more? Is it just as simple as getting them to a place of reliance on them and never questioning it till their bodies could take no more? What if I said too much? What if what I talked about wasn't what I planned to talk about?"

Hailey gets it. She understands his concern, hears all his questions because they're questions she's asked herself, "And what if what you talked about is something you buried so deep that only being drugged could drag it up again. This euphoria made you extra vulnerable, you felt bulletproof but what now, what if the memory suddenly hits you?"

He exhales heavily and murmurs quietly, "Something like that, yeah."

"Could've been Babur and Tabssum?" Hailey tries gently.

Jay's laugh is hollow, "That _is_ one of the worst memories but it's not even halfway the worst they could drag out of me."

Jay stands up, discomfort at the direction the conversation's taking clear, "So, should I get tested or?"

"Yeah, though if I'm right about what they used, it won't be in your system anymore."

Jay narrows his eyes, "Thinking what I'm thinking? GHB?"

"Yeah."

"Could already be untraceable given the time," Jay says glancing towards the clock, "Still worth a shot?"

"Yeah, which is why you got to pee in this," she picks up a container in a clear plastic bag.

"Just something you had lying around, Upton?" Jay questions, his tone a little lighter despite the seriousness of the situation as he takes the bag from her.

Hailey smiles, "What can I say? This apartment has an unusually exorbitant amount of screw top containers and it's also sterile as I bought some bleach when I first moved in."

"It's like you're MacGyver, Hailey," Jay teases.

"Shut up, Jay, and go fill the container like an obedient boy."

Jay mock salutes and walks away, his head a little higher but stops, holding the bag up and pointing at the label on the container with his name and date of birth on it "How d'you know when my birthday was, Hailey?"

"Due diligence, Jay."

He makes an impressed sound before he moves off again and Hailey hears the bathroom door shut before it opens again and he shouts, "I'll take a shower too. I smell like crap."

Ten minutes later, and Jay comes out, looking better and holding the bag.

"So, who'll take it where it can be analyzed?"

Hailey walks over to him from the kitchenette and holds out her hand taking the bag from Jay, "That would be me."

"What if someone follows you?"

"Well, I'll tell Marcie that I had to have a pregnancy test which came back negative."

"Pregnancy? That's a little extreme."

"It'd be more extreme if it were you saying it."

"True," Jay replies and they share a smile before Hailey glances at the clock.

"I gotta go. Are you okay?"

Jay looks away again, his gaze distant before it returns to Hailey and he looks exhausted again, "It's like we got blindfolds on now. The most crucial part of the entire case so far and technology failed us, but I guess yeah, I'm in one piece. I suppose that counts for something, right?"

"It does Jay," she assures him then continues, "You had anything from Barnet telling you to get to work today?"

Jay pulls the phone from his pocket and shakes his head, "No. I _will_ work this afternoon though. Do what I'm supposed to do. None the wiser, figure Ryan would be a little confused but put it down to too much to drink or something like that."

"You shouldn't drive today even if it is out of your system."

"I'll deliver with Barnet or see what he says, anyway."

"Okay, and I'll find out from Marcie about tomorrow and let you know, stay here as long as you need to, get a cab back to your place and sleep or go to work and I'll see you tomorrow."

Jay nods his agreement, watching as Hailey puts on her jacket, and pulls the hair bobble from her wrist and ties her hair up in a ponytail and then wraps the scarf around her neck, as a thought which had occurred to him earlier comes back.

"Hey, what do we do or how do we act if Price or someone tailed us. What if whoever contacted you via the burner wasn't doing it for good? What if they see you leaving here and me a few minutes later?"

Hailey picks up her bag, placing the bag containing the urine sample into it carefully and stops next to Jay, "Well perhaps we act like Marcie got her wish."

She touches his arm for a moment, a half-smile on her face for a fraction of a second before it's gone and she's walking toward the door. Jay's gaze follows her the whole way.

"Hailey?"

She turns as she opens the door, "Yeah."

"Thanks for having my back. Looking out for me. Owe you one, a coffee."

Hailey recognizes his words for the attempt at lightening the mood it is. A need to return to some normalcy, perhaps.

"You don't but I'll take it when it comes, Jay. Stay safe, okay?"

Jay holds his hand up to wave to her even though the door's already closed and whispers, "You too Hailey, you too."

\- - - -

Jay had taken a cab back to his apartment, had another shower to attempt to revive himself. To try to reawaken his mind enough to remember.

He'd been about to call Barnet and ask where if they needed him, but the other man had beaten him to it, sending a curt message.

**Take today off Foster.. Be ready next week.**

Jay had been half relieved but also anxious. Anxious still about the multiple missing parts of the jigsaw. Feeling the need to sleep but nervous about what could happen when he did.

It's Thursday now. Thanksgiving. A few miles away from where Jay is, the thanksgiving day parade is starting. Once upon a time it had been a source of excitement. Just a kid desperate to tuck into the Turkey and the rest of the food which could've fed a small army never mind a family of 4. Right before the broken parts of his parents' relationship became crystal clear to him. When he was old enough to try to shield his mother from the worst of it. When he'd help her cut the meat because his dad was too busy drinking.

Today it could almost be another day. He's early again. Waiting for Voight to arrive. He'd left the thermos on the counter, forgetting it. Consumed as he'd been by the fragments of memory that had resurfaced in his sleep.

He can remember now that Flynn hadn't been there. Or at least not before the lights had gone out. Not that Jay thinks he entirely lost consciousness. Only lost his balance and ending up on the floor.

He can recall the euphoria and the confusion. He can recall the faces he'd seen. That's not so different from his nightmares prior to this though, and that's part of the problem. Jay's been dealing with the impact of everything that's gone before for so long it's hard to separate the what just happened to the what's constantly in his head, anyway.

Jay's been under duress before and been able to withstand it. He's been able to ward off the worst memories and do his job.

The way this is different? It's that he's always been able to control it before. He'd like to believe it was the same this time. It's the not knowing that's doing the damage. If it _was_ drugs, it's the loss of control that's hardest, it's what brings forward the fears, the memories he hopes he didn't share involuntarily but are coming forth with that fear, anyway.

Voight arrives right on time. Along with Olinsky.

Two minutes later and Jay stands in front of them. Their scrutiny of him is obvious. It's been a while since he saw Voight, less time since he saw Olinsky. Jay doesn't think he's changed in this time, doesn't believe he's been overwhelmed or taken on the persona of Ryan to the point where his sergeant would want to pull him even allowing for this week's events.

"You ok, Jay?" Voight asks, his eyes searching Jay's.

"Yeah, a night of sleep helped."

Jay's not lying about the first part, and he _is_ okay. Okay, as a definition in a dictionary means: satisfactory, not especially good, and that's the very definition of Jay currently.

He catches the skeptical reaction and glance that Al and Voight share and bristles slightly so his next words are sharper, angrier than he intended them to be.

"What happened with the wire? Thought it was meant to be good, modern. Yet it failed right at the most important time."

"Yeah, we're frustrated too, Jay," Al's so patient, so damn calm as he steps forward, handing Jay a new device, "It'll work next time, we tested this one yesterday. Ruzek, Atwater and I spent over an hour testing it and it works."

Jay almost questions whether they tested the last one. He's not _that_ angry though. Not at Al or Voight or intelligence as a whole. He looks down at the device, accepting Al's words, "Ok," hesitantly he asks the next question, "Did the lab results come back yet?"

Voight and Al share another glance and Voight steps back, allowing Al to reply.

"There was nothing."

Jay shakes his head, throws his hands up in the hair and turns away. It's not a surprise, but it's still a blow. If they could catch one break, that would be something. Instead, it's setback after setback.

He feels a hand on the small of his back and Al's quiet voice.

"Walk with me, kid."

Jay's frustration has him wanting to walk but away from Olinsky and Voight. Get in his car and get away from here. To rail against everything but Al's always had what are like cosmic powers to calm a situation. Not that Al isn't terrifying at times. Not that he's not formidable. He even is here, but he's formidable in a way this morning for Jay that he relaxes even as he falls into the first couple of steps alongside the older man.

"Not so long ago, wires breaking down was an everyday part of the job. Part of being undercover. We still got the job done."

"You ever think you got drugged and yet there's no proof? So you start to question if you lost your mind?"

"Are we talking recreationally or for the job?"

It feels good to laugh, even though it's a choked sort of sound. Al stops walking and his hand on Jay's arm stops him too.

"For what it's worth, the lab said that if you were drugged. If they put GHB in your drink, you wouldn't have known any different until it took effect. And they would've chosen that particular drug for the very reason it doesn't stay in your system long enough for it to still show up much later than early the following morning."

Jay nods.

"Upton told Voight you said you can remember feeling euphoric at one point. That fits too. Kid, this sucks, but we're getting closer."

Jay frowns, dragging a hand across his chin, "I hate that it's like they have the upper hand. That they know more than me. I want to be certain I went with the memory I'd rehearsed. The one that was safest, but what if I didn't?"

"And what if you did? Jay, everything went against us, you, this time. Next time it won't."

"Can I borrow a little of that optimism from you, man?"

Al smiles, warm, "You don't need it. You're doing a great job. You think Voight would be so hands off if you weren't," the older man sobers, "We're concerned, watchful, but we trust you. Don't be so hard on yourself."

Jay returns the smile, "They should give everyone a bit of Olinsky when times are hard."

"I only save it for those who warrant it the most," Al looks over his shoulder to Voight who's watching them, "You ready to walk back? We can talk more though if you need to. It's Thanksgiving, all I got is staring at the TV and trying not to remember Lexi."

"Al, I'm sorry."

Al taps Jay's cheek gently for a moment and shakes his head, "Never say sorry for something you don't have to say sorry for, kid."

"How are you going to spend the rest of today?" Jay asks quietly.

"At least some of it with him trying to drink ourselves into a place where we can forget what and who we've lost," Olinsky gestures toward Voight and shakes his head at Jay's sympathetic expression waving it away.

They walk together back towards Voight, but Olinsky halts.

"Both by the way."

Jay narrows his eyes, confused.

"Recreationally and professionally. The drug thing, that is. I'll tell you about it when all this is over."

"You should write a book."

"No one'd buy that it's all true," Al replies as they both grin and resume walking over to rejoin Voight.

"Is it today Ruzek and Atwater are seeing Healey?" Jay asks his sergeant.

"Yeah, right about the same time you and Upton are visiting Marcie. Any idea when they'll do the next meet?"

"No, the text I had from Barnet just said to be ready next week but ready for what? Could simply be the deliveries."

"Oh yeah, about that," Voight signals to Olinsky, "Al?"

"Yeah. Hopefully after another few days of these deliveries you'll know if there are patterns. Set days. If so, we'll put someone in, see if we can find out what's in the crates."

"Ok. Anything on Anthony Hunt? Or any more on the burner or Flynn, I remembered one more thing and that he wasn't there at first when I went downstairs or not obviously."

"Hunt's in the wind." Voight answers.

"Or in the ground," Jay muses quietly.

"That too. The burner we got nothing and nor for Flynn, we gotta see what Healey gives us."

"Ok. I should go. Marcie messaged this morning asking me to bring cranberry sauce and I somehow have to find cranberry sauce and put it in a pot and pretend I made it."

"Any grocery store that's open and has a holiday aisle is your friend," Al taps his nose.

"Thanks man," Jay watches as the two older men walk back to Voight's truck and climb in though Olinsky pauses and calls Jay's name as Jay turns away and walks towards his vehicle.

"Halstead, anytime you need to talk."

Jay turns his head, smiling in acknowledgement and watches as Al slams the door and they drive away. Not moving for a moment till an icy wind blows a little harder and he shivers and climbs into his car, blowing into his hands and cursing the broken heater before he pulls away.


	13. Chapter 13

Hailey waits outside for Jay to collect her. Holding a tupperware box with 6 cupcakes she'd made that morning at the request of Marcie. It's shortly after noon and the streets are busier with people traveling to their families and people coming home from the Thanksgiving Day parade.

Maybe later Hailey'll call her mom. She could try to time it well enough that her father'll be passed out and there's no chance she'll hear him in the background or notice the tremble in her mother's voice when he asks who's on the phone.

She's pulled from her thoughts when Jay pulls up alongside the sidewalk and she climbs in, grateful that she's working today. Not able to dwell on different times or things she should do or should have done already.

"Had you making something too, did she?" Jay asks as he pulls away.

"Yeah, cupcakes, which I last made when I was thirteen years old."

"And I thought I had it tough searching for cranberry sauce?"

"You seem brighter," Hailey observes and watches Jay closely for any sign he's not, if he's covering.

He glances at her for a second before returning his attention to the road ahead, "I _am_ better."

For all the words he doesn't say, there's an obvious indication that he's better but a long way off from good. She's grateful that he doesn't attempt to conceal it with an overexaggeration of how well he is at least. It's progress for them as partners and there's a lot to be said for that progress, particularly with the twists and turns of this case.

They arrive at Marcie's twenty-five minutes later, the roads busier with the aftermath of the parade and others travelling to see family for a few hours for the day.

Marcie's waiting for them just inside the apartment building as they arrive, her arms stretched out in greeting as Hailey gets out and hugs her and then she pulls Jay in too.

"Well, aren't you two a sight for sore and lonely eyes? Come on in, I need a sturdy man to slice the ham and the turkey," she says linking arms with Jay as Hailey follows them up the two floors to Marcie's apartment which has a garland with autumnal leaves on it on the door.

"Ham _and_ turkey? It's only the 3 of us, Marce?" Hailey points out as the older woman unlinks her arms and turns the key, gesturing for both Jay and Hailey to go in.

"Yeah, but he's ex army honey, and if I've learned one thing about former soldiers, it's that they never lose their damn appetite. Right, Ryan?"

"Well, I could be persuaded, let's put it that way."

"See, I told you, Paula."

It's remarkably easy to turn what's essentially a meal between 2 people forced together by their job to be close and a woman they're at once deceiving and watching closely into a fun and somehow heartwarming experience. The scene in the kitchen is chaos, but it's chaos that smells beautiful. It's plates piled high and a dining table with scarcely any room for plates for them to sit and eat at it and they give up, eventually. Finding tea towels to rest the plates on and Hailey and Jay on the couch next to each other while Marcie sits in the armchair sending happy glances their way each time they clink their glasses against each other's

"The cranberry sauce hasn't killed me yet, Ryan. Now be honest, did you make it or was it from the grocery store?"

"I'm offended, Marcie Townsend that you think I wouldn't have spent the time making it."

"You didn't though, did ya?"

"No, of course I didn't," Jay laughs ducking just in time to avoid the tea towel as it hits the back of the couch instead.

"Thank goodness _you_ didn't let me down, Paula."

Hailey peers at Marcie over the top of her glass, "You haven't even tried them yet. Let's see how you are in twelve hours, Marce, and make sure you don't die of food poisoning in that time."

"Ryan will never marry you if you don't learn how to cook, Paula."

It's almost immaculate comedy timing the way Jay and Hailey are both having a sip of their drinks and nearly choke on them. Marcie's laughter is far too smug as she stands up and takes their plates from them and disappears to the kitchen area.

Leaving Jay and Hailey next to each other on the couch. It's been good to laugh; good to see Jay relax into it; lovely to see him smile and the stress seeming to disappear as his shoulders relaxed and for Hailey to at least experience a Thanksgiving dinner that doesn't involve raised voices, threats and doors being slammed or Hailey covering her ears with her hands.

Even if it's fake. Even if it's not real, it's still better than almost every other Thanksgiving dinner she's been with others for and the ones where she was alone.

"We're going to ask about Kacey Stapleton. right?" Jay whispers, leaning in.

Hailey glances toward the kitchen where Marcie's singing to herself then suddenly shouts as she opens the tupperware container, "These look so good Paula, if a 5-year-old made 'em."

Hailey looks back to Jay, "Yeah, we'll do a toast to absent friends and go from there."

There's something instantly in Jay's expression, something in his eyes that says he's hiding more than he's showing suddenly.

"Or we can do whatever it was you were considering? We don't have to do it like that," she says.

"It's okay," Jay gets out before his expression changes and Hailey sees the difference in how he'd been before to now. He absolutely _is_ acting now.

The brightness is fragile now, and the smile more brittle.

"I was joking before Paula, these look beautiful and they actually seem like you made them rather than cheating the entire damn system like this lazybones did."

"I _am_ right here, Marce," Jay protests, grinning at Marcie and then at Hailey.

It's the eyes, Hailey decides. His eyes that never fully mirror the brightness of his smile.

The conversation turns before the drinks come, a sudden melancholy sweeping over the room as Marcie picks up a photo frame and shakes her head at it.

"This is Brian a few years ago. Thanksgiving 2014," she hands the frame to Jay who holds it in front of Hailey so she can see too. Brian Townsend smiles into the camera with his arm around Eddie Stapleton, another man and a young woman with red hair.

"Who are these other people, Marce," Hailey asks.

"Hmm?"

"These people with Brian, he looks so happy. So comfortable."

Marcie stands up, holding out her hand to take frame back and frowning as Hailey holds it away from her.

"Come on Marce, it's no big secret, surely?"

"That guy's Terry right?"

Hailey holds the photo closer, "Oh my god, Ryan, you're right. He looks sober, or at least less addled by drink."

"Does it matter?" Marcie says defensively as she leans over the back of the couch and snatches the frame from Hailey.

"I recognize the other guy. From the pictures of him in the news? That's Eddie Stapleton, right? So who's the girl?"

"She's some girl probably who muscled her way into the picture like all these girls do when they see 3 guys together and they've had too much to drink."

Hailey and Jay exchange a quick glance.

"But that looks like somebody's home, Marce, not the bar?"

"Oh, for the love of god, Ryan, stop asking questions. I don't have a clue who she is, okay? Now will someone get a drink so we can toast to absent friends and be thankful for everything and you two can leave?"

Marcie sinks into the chair and slams the photo frame upside down on the arm of the chair, shaking her head as she does it then glaring at Hailey and Jay when they don't move immediately.

"I really gotta ask twice?"

"No, no, you don't Marce, sorry." Jay stands up and disappears to the kitchen, leaving Hailey watching as the older woman fidgets with a handkerchief and looks anywhere but at her.

The minutes before they leave are like days gone by for Hailey. Awkward tense silence and half hearted murmurings of being thankful.

Marcie rallies as they toast, albeit with a soft drink for Jay as he's driving, and insists on a kiss from Jay before they leave.

"That's better. See what happens, see how much easier it is when you don't ask stupid questions."

Marcie rests her hand on Jay's arm as they reach the door and Hailey steps out beyond the doorway and walks near the stairs, "Sorry I got uptight there Ryan. I only wanted a moment to remember Brian, and you both railroaded me and I don't know why and I also don't know why I reacted like that. I'm sorry. Thank you," she looks at Hailey, "Thank you both, you made my Thanksgiving and I'm only sorry too that the mood isn't right for me to get you to kiss Paula like you've been dying to all night. I'm not blind, just make sure you do it on the way home."

She lets go as Jay shakes his head but leans in, kissing her again and waving as he joins Hailey and the door slams shut behind them.

"Well, that went well." Jay says drily.

\- - - -

It takes a lot less time to get back to Hailey's apartment than it did to get to Marcie's.

They sit in the car outside the apartment block not having talked really on the way back.

"She's lying. Covering, but is that cause she's scared or something else?" Jay looks at Hailey.

"Or both?"

"I don't know which is worse. Sometimes I think she's innocent. She's genuinely a rabbit trapped in the headlights of this whole mess. Other times."

"Yeah," Hailey agrees.

"I hope we get something from Ruz and Kev's lawyer visit today."

"Me too, and I hope Kayleigh Alexander calls."

"And Anthony Hunt turns up safe, full of answers, ready to talk and that the wire works next time."

"It's okay to wish on Thanksgiving, right?" Hailey asks.

"Yeah, just one wish each though usually."

"Well, I _was_ crossing my fingers."

Jay grins, "Okay, well that'll definitely work," his expression softens, "You going to call your family when you go up?"

Hailey doesn't look at Jay, just shakes her head, "No. I almost did earlier but not going there today."

"Oh yeah, I can relate to that. I should call Will but he'll be at my dad's probably and I don't need that today."

Hailey hesitates, taking a breath, "You could come up. _You_ can sleep on the couch this time. Terrible night to be alone. We can toast to absent friends?"

Jay looks tired but there's warmth now in his eyes, genuine warmth and none of the strain from earlier though there's a hint of regret as he shakes his head and exhales, "I want to and for the sake of the operation, Ryan and Paula and all that I could, but I shouldn't."

"Yeah, it's probably for the best," Hailey agrees.

"Yeah, I definitely shouldn't."

They look at each other, share a smile before Hailey reaches for the door and goes to leave but Jay's hand is on her other arm and she stops, turns out and Jay's lips brush against her cheek for a fraction of a second.

She hears, "Happy Thanksgiving, Hailey."

Somehow she manages to reply "Happy Thanksgiving to you too, Jay," and somehow she convinces herself to get out the car alone and stand there just watching, waving at Jay's car even after it's out of sight telling herself it's only a kiss, barely a kiss, on the cheek.

\- - - -

Clayton Healey's home smells of Thanksgiving turkey and the house is filled with people when Kevin and Adam arrive. Healey lives in Forest Glen. An affluent district, perhaps the most affluent in Chicago.

They're in a room that's been turned into a study/office on the ground floor of the two-storey home, ushered in there by Healey himself before he offered them coffee and tea and at their refusal had insisted his wife would make some in case they changed their mind.

Adam's standing up, staring at the bookcases which go from floor to ceiling, then pointing at the grand paintings adorning the other walls in the sizeable room.

"Ever feel like we made some bad decisions when we chose to be cops instead of lawyers, man?"

"You and me as lawyers, man? That wouldn't have lasted long." Kev replies.

"Kicked out of the ABA in record time?"

"You know it," Kevin agrees then looks toward the door as it opens and Healey comes into the room with a tray followed by a tall dark-haired kid holding 2 plates, one which has sandwiches on it and the other cakes.

Healey sets the tray down on the table in front of where Kevin's sitting, the child placing the plates either side of them.

"Thanks Max, this is my boy Max, officers. And these sandwiches and cakes are courtesy of my wife Kitty. A slight consolation we hope for you both coming here on Thanksgiving."

"Thanks Mr. Healey," Adam acknowledges, taking in the fancy china plates and the cups and saucers which are likely worth more on their own than half the contents of Adam's apartment.

Max hovers by the door till his father walks over to him, says something to make the boy grin and presses a gentle kiss to his son's head who opens the door, pulling it shut as he exits the room.

"He's a wonderful kid," Healey gestures towards the door as he pulls up a chair and urges Adam to sit next to Kevin before he sits down himself.

"I'm sorry you've had to wait so long to see me, Officers. Tara was worrying about it every time we spoke. You made quite an impression on her Officer Atwater, right?," the man winks at Kevin.

"That's right, Mr Healey. Not as much as an impression as she made on me."

Healey's laugh is genuine and warm. He's not what Kevin expected at all.

"Tara has that effect on many people," Healey's expression turns serious, "Anyway you're not here on Thanksgiving to talk about my secretary. You're here to talk about important matters and I want to get back to my family so ask what you need to ask."

Healey stands up, walks over to his desk and picks up a box file, then a pair of glasses and sits back down opposite Atwater and Ruzek, laying the file on his lap.

"Mr Healey, do you remember Brian Townsend?"

Healey holds up the box file, handing it across the table to Kevin.

"Everything you need is in there. I got nothing to hide."

Adam and Kev share a glance before Kevin opens the file and rummages through the contents.

"How did you come to represent Brian Townsend, Mr Healey?" Adam asks.

"The brotherhood," Healey smiles, "I've known Steve and Jimmy for years. Impressionable inexperienced kids together in 'Nam. We all came back and did all kinds of different things with our lives. I lost touch with both of them for a while until Steve called me in a terrible state one day. Ella, his eldest child, had died."

"Of leukemia? We were informed. It's tragic, especially at such a young age." Adam replies.

Healey's reaction of confusion speaks volumes before he even says anything and shakes his head, "We're talking Ella Flynn, right? The same person?"

Kevin looks up from the file, "Yes sir, Ella Flynn. Died of leukemia at twelve."

Healey shuts his eyes, sighing as he does and reopens them, "I'm not surprised. I imagine it was Helen who couldn't deal with the truth of it all. Or at least didn't want a bunch of cops to know unless they had to dig deeper."

Adam and Kevin share a stunned look before Kevin says, "Ella Flynn didn't die of leukemia?"

"No, Ella died at eighteen. Overdose. Accidental. She was predicted to go to Yale. Smartest kid. Gone, just like that. Anyway, Steve found out that Ella had been to court with misdemeanor possession, but she didn't tell them. She was dead 2 days later. He blamed himself entirely. Helen blamed him too. I helped him through it, but we grew apart again."

"Till?" Adam prompts.

"Till I got a call in the middle of the night from him, in 2013. Asked me if I would take on a case and get this kid he knew off a misdemeanor possession charge. Said he was doing it on behalf of some friend who knew the kid better. The money came from Price's bank account, but I know for a fact the source of the money was Steve. I didn't care as long as I got the money. Three adopted kids and we spoil them like crazy, you know?"

"Brian Townsend was the kid?"

"Yeah though, calling Brian a kid isn't right of course. In his thirties ain't no kid. He was messed up though. Mind like a kid. I saw plenty of guys like that after 'Nam. Anyway, it was easy to make the charges disappear the first 2 times, 3rd time not so much but if you do a job like mine for long enough, you can make it happen."

"What happened then?" Adam asks.

"Nothing really. The last time was late 2014. His mom was there yelling at him. Price was there too. It was a complete mess. Suddenly Steve appeared and everything was calmer the moment he arrived. I got the kid off and that was it. Last I heard till I got another phone call from Steve. Another tearful call telling me Brian was dead. He was drunk, incoherent. Kept saying something about the kid's mom and Jimmy."

"What was he saying?" Kevin presses the older man.

"I can't even fully remember. I remember expressing my condolences. Said I knew it must bring back memories of Ella, but he was ranting and saying it was nothing like Ella. And that was it till a few months later and he wanted to meet me. Said he had a proposition, and he wanted to do it off books."

"What was it?"

"Oh, nothing illegal. Just he didn't want Helen to hear about it. He calls me every so often when some kid needs the best kind of representation to get them off some minor charge that could destroy their life if someone wasn't around to help. He pays me. Cash. I help the kid and he tries to help them not go the way Ella did, though I haven't heard from him since I read about David. I reached out a bunch of times but," Healey shakes his head.

"Mr Healey, did Steven Flynn ever say anything more about Brian Townsend and what he thought happened? Or he ever say anything about James Price?" Adam asks.

"And Marcie Townsend too?" Kevin puts in.

"Honestly, no. I don't think he would've said if he could. You hear things doing the work I do. Just like you guys do. I heard about that bar. The people that disappeared. I know that Brian's mom, Marcie, she works there. They renamed the bar like it was some kind of thoughtful grand gesture."

Healey chokes out a laugh.

"Steve and Jimmy were total opposites always at one time. Jimmy was the warmest guy pre 'Nam. Steve, the iceman. Then it flipped after we got home. Jimmy would never do something for another person unless there was something in it for him. Steve, he'd do anything. He turned every tragedy in his life, every difficult into doing something good for someone else and he ends up with both his kids dead?"

Healey stands up walking to the drinks trolley in the corner, pointing at Atwater and Ruzek and shrugging as they shake their heads, "Your funeral. You know I'm all about justice but I don't see any in that and the thing in all this that confuses me? Jimmy Price is rich as Midas, rich from I don't even want to guess what but rich all the same and yet Steve was doing the bailing out of the Townsend kid?"

There's a knock on the door and Healey shouts, "Come in," and a blonde-haired child pokes her head shyly round the door.

"Daddy, mommy says dinner'll be ready in 5 minutes and you need to come and carve."

"Ok, sweetie. Tell your mom I'll be there soon. We're finishing up, aren't we gentlemen?"

Adam nods, "Yeah, yeah we're finishing up," He smiles at the little girl who gives him and Kevin a shy smile back and waves as she releases the door handle and disappears from sight.

Healey gestures toward the still full plates then, "Oh well, at least we don't have to prepare new sandwiches for later on tonight at least. Anyway, that's all I got. You can take that file. It has all the information I know of. I had Tara take copies. You can stop by the office anytime to check they're all legit if you need to. I hope I've been of some help at least?"

You can say that again, Kevin thinks as he and Adam stand up and each shake Healey's hand. Kevin stops as they're about to walk to the door and leave, turning to Healey.

"Mr Healey, from what you know of Price and Flynn, are they capable of torture and murder and potentially the murder of his own son in Steven Flynn's case?"

Healey offers a grim smile, "If anyone laid a hand on any of my kids, I can remember how to fire a gun. Once you kill one person in conflict, you don't forget, you always have it in you. Steve's the nicest guy, but you harm a hair on anyone who means something to him? He'd get to you eventually if you ask me."

"And Price?"

"Some people value money and power over everything else. Soon as you start down that slope, I figure you're capable of anything and everything."

Another gentle knock and the door opens, and the child rushes to Healey's side and he scoops her up.

"People raised their eyebrows when a guy my age adopted this kid. Same for my wife, she's not much younger than me. She keeps me sane, keeps me happy. Keeps me honest and hardworking as long as she stays safe, right? Jodie, shall we let these fine young men go and enjoy the rest of their Thanksgiving?"

Jodie nods as Adam reaches his hand out to shake Healey's and ruffles her hair. Kevin does the same immediately after and they follow Healey and his daughter out of the room and to the front door.

"You need something else, Officers, feel free to call me," he pulls 2 business cards from his trouser pocket, "Anytime. Happy Thanksgiving."

They leave the house and walk back down the driveway to the car.

"Think he's solid." Ruzek says jerking his thumb in the direction of the house.

Kev takes a few seconds to answer, long enough so they reach the car and nods.

"I do. That whole thing with Ella Flynn? Price too and Flynn, I mean. It all makes sense. He tries to be the righteous guy and then his own kid gets involved somehow and he goes in, and no one questions it cause he's known and helped Price before, so he can keep an eye on him. As far as we can tell he's not told Price and Barnet who Jay and Hailey are. Seems solid to me."

"Copy that. Why is he still involved though if he knows Price is responsible for his son's death? Doesn't that make him just as dangerous, unpredictable if he's out for revenge?"

"Yeah. That's what we need to figure out? Maybe have a talk with him?"

"And let Upton and Halstead know as soon as we can too."

"Never liked Thanksgiving turkey anyway," Adam comments over the top of the car as he pulls out his cell to update Voight as Kevin gets in and starts the car and Adam holds the phone to his ear.

"Hey Sarge, sorry to pull you away from the turkey sandwiches and beer with Olinsky, you'll want to hear this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to be as realistic as possible with the pacing and realistic in general and I know some of it may not be strictly police procedure but that's the beauty of artistic licence right? (I do have a google doc with all the locations of each place in this story and pictures so I may well add that as a separate chapter at the end) 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed. Please consider leaving a comment or some kudos. Most importantly, do take care and stay safe xx


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to finally update this story a bit on here especially given I'm finally back to writing it. (i tend to update first on ffnet) This will be a bumper update so from chapter 14 to 21 so you'll be all caught up on here.

A week later and Hailey's working alone again at the bar. No sign of Marcie. She'd had a text not even acknowledging her absence from the bar. One word only, Yes, in response to Hailey's question 'Are you ok?'.

It's never busy enough for her absence to matter in terms of Hailey being rushed off her feet. It begs more questions though than it answers. Questions that Hailey's not confident Marcie would give the answers to now, even if she could or wanted to. Half of her wonders whether it's voluntary on Marcie's part for her not to be there.

Whether Ryan and Paula had asked too many questions including about Kacey Stapleton.

Jay and Hailey in the last week have played their roles. With no questions, not querying a thing they're asked to do.

Still no sign of Steven Flynn and no trace of Anthony Hunt. It's like the trail if they even had one has not just gone cold but has frozen in its place.

Now it's late evening, and she's shifted the bottles into a different order multiple times in the fridges. She's people watching now and trying again to make sense of the case and where the land lies.

She hears the whistle rather than hearing her name being called followed by a click of fingers and flicks her gaze towards the end of the bar where Barnet is sitting, smirking as he watches her.

"At last, Paula. Now how about you get me a beer and then come over here and we'll talk."

She smiles and complies, grabbing a bottle from the fridge and memorizing what Marcie had told her was Barnet's favorite beer and flips the top off and puts a napkin down in front of the man and places the bottle on top.

"We've never had the chance to talk properly, Paula. So a reminder, I'm Peter Barnet, born and raised in Chicago. How about you?"

"Paula Wilson. Born and raised in Canada. Tired of being crapped on by terrible boyfriends in that country. Decided I'd come to another and get crapped on by them here instead."

Barnet narrows his eyes as he takes a swig from the bottle, swallows and points at her, laughing as he does.

"Marcie said you were funny. Inquisitive, or as I like to say, nosey, too. Sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong but funny and the customers love you and we'd have been screwed without you this week if you weren't here."

Hailey nods but doesn't reply. Sure enough, Barnet fills the silence.

"Marcie told me you'd asked after her. She appreciated it. I did too, she also told me you and Ryan spent Thanksgiving at her place."

"That's right."

"Fuck him if you want to, I don't care. But Paula, I can tell you this, you mess with his head, you distract him from the reason he's not behind that bar anymore, well.

Barnet doesn't complete the sentence, instead he fixes a stare on Hailey and shakes his head.

"Is that a threat, Mr Barnet?"

His laugh is disdainful, his eyes cold, "Paula, Paula, Paula," he says, his fingertips grazing against her arm, "Honey, you would be very aware if I threatened you, trust me."

Hailey looks down at his fingers and manages a smile, "Good, just checking. As for Ryan, I barely know him. I'm not ready for anything."

"I got news for you sweetie, he ain't ready either. For a relationship. He won't be ready for some time either, doesn't stop a man needing some relief though, you hear me?" He winks as his fingertips continue to graze on Hailey's skin.

Hailey steps backwards, smiling politely as she points toward the already almost empty bottle. "Get you another one?"

Barnet's laugh is even more disdainful this time right, "Oh Paula, you got the wrong idea. I already got a girl, I won't be coming after you or at least not soon. See if I get bored with my girl and who knows but let Ryan have some fun too."

"Just not too much?"

"You learn fast, Paula. I like you. Don't fuck things up."

Hailey grabs 2 bottles, one for her and one more for Barnet, flips the caps off and places the full bottle in front of him as he holds up the now almost empty bottle and clinks hers against it.

"You can count on me, Mr Barnet."

"I hope so, Paula. I hope so. Anyway, you'll get to see Ryan tomorrow."

"Oh, one of the staff meetings?"

Barnet's laugh is more genuine this time, "Staff meeting? I'm using that one, Paula."

He drains his drink and winks at Hailey as he picks up the other bottle and without another look at her makes his way back to the door in the far corner, Hailey's gaze following him in case he looks back to her.

He doesn't.

Someone clears their throat behind her and she whirls round to see Terry leaning against the bar, giving her a sympathetic smile as she walks the short distance to stand in front of him.

"You remember what I said dontcha Paula?"

"Don't get sucked in?"

Terry makes an impressed sound, "Exactly. Too late for Ryan, but I don't think that's the case for you."

"Too late for Ryan?"

Terry looks behind him, towards the door in the corner and back at Hailey, pursing his lips before he nods, "Okay, perhaps if he's got you on his side, it won't be too late. Make sure you have an exit strategy, Paula. For both of you if you like him that is even if it's only as a friend, just in case."

He pushes away from the bar before he pauses and leans in closer, "Marcie'll be back tomorrow, make the most of the absence of chaos till then," then he strolls back to his seat where Hailey can see his glass is still full and sits down, takes a sip and reverts to the Terry she's more familiar with.

Or had been anyway.

\- - - -

There's enough of a routine now in Jay's deliveries and Barnet's too that Adam's CI, Karl has introduced him to one guy who runs the bar where a vets group takes place and where Barnet regularly delivers.

Next Tuesday, Adam will go under and the delivery takes place on the Friday. Enough time they hope for Adam to install himself as someone reliable enough to unpack the deliveries.

Though the more time goes by and the more the crates don't weigh enough in the main to be alcohol, Jay's convinced the deliveries contain drugs.

Quite what type of drugs is the question.

Jay's doing better now. He'd managed an almost uninterrupted 3 hours of sleep last night.

He's got the meeting in a couple of hours and he's checked and double checked the wire. He's firmer than ever on the story he'll share and he'll be more vigilant than he was before. Knowing of course he's got Hailey's back up too.

Hailey.

They've been in contact via text and once on a phone call, but that's all. Hailey working every night and into the early hours at the bar in Marcie's absence and Jay starting the deliveries early had meant that seeing each other would have been difficult and hard though not impossible to explain if Barnet and Co were in any way tailing them.

So instead of meeting, they'd messaged each other on each other's UC phones. As Paula and Ryan aside from one call on their usual cells where they'd discussed Marcie's absence ahead of Hailey checking in with Antonio.

Hailey's easy to work with, Jay's realized. Easy, smart, perceptive, which is the only downside sometimes when he can tell that she picks up on things few others would.

Ever since Thanksgiving and the brief kiss on the cheek, the invitation upstairs that he'd declined, his instinct had been to withdraw further.

Surprised with himself that he'd even considered the possibility. Uncertain that the consideration he'd given to it was only for undercover reasons; just to go with the idea that Paula and Ryan had something more than friendship.

She's different from Erin. Maybe it's the absence of that initial attraction. Or that she came into his life, to Intelligence, when things with Lindsay were at a low right before Lindsay walked out of his life.

He knows that any relationship could be a rebound. Hold on, he says to himself. Relationship? The fact he's even considering the word regarding Hailey is as surprising as it isn't. As surprising as the realization that the idea doesn't sound that strange. That he's looking forward to seeing her later and that while the nerves are gathering in his stomach knowing she'll be there at least before he goes downstairs? It gives him a sense of security that's not fully explained away as just him having a good partner.

He shakes himself, blows out a breath and checks the wire again, just in case.

\- - - -

Marcie's back, like Terry said she would be. Though she's not much help to Hailey.

It's not the Oxy, Hailey thinks.

More the way she avoids Hailey. The way she keeps shooting her glances, which when Hailey catches them are anything from fear to anger to looking like she wants to talk, the last thing she wants is to ignore her. She still does, though.

She doesn't even express excitement as it nears the time Jay'll arrive. Though a smile lightens her features finally when Jay walks in, she doesn't hug him like always.

Instead, she mutters a half-hearted hello which has Jay narrowing his eyes, the silent question clear and Hailey nods her head that yes, she's been like this all day.

"Everything ok, Marce?" Jay calls.

Marcie's lips quirk upwards despite herself, but she shrugs, like a sullen teenager rather than a grown woman.

"Aww, Marce, you're not still mad about Thanksgiving?"

Another shrug, though the smile comes more readily this time and she looks up and meets Jay's eyes.

"Welcome back," he grins, but she's already waving him away and busying herself at the bar and the sink area where she's holding the carafe that's empty and goes to walk away, starting off toward the door before she stops and turns around, walks up to Jay and hugs him with one arm.

"I'm still kinda mad but you and Paula are hard to stay mad at," She nods, apparently satisfied that it's enough before she turns away again and disappears through the door.

Jay watches her then returns his attention to the bar area and to Hailey.

"How are you, Paula?"

She grins, "Good, glad to see you again, Ryan. All set?"

"Yeah. All set," he winks.

Marcie reappears and smirks as she stands next to Hailey, "All I'm gonna say is you two'll make very beautiful babies."

"Marcie Townsend, any chance you can get back to being mad at us, I think I prefer that to you matchmaking," Jay says, his face as stern as possible.

Marcie throws her hands up in the air, "I don't see the problem."

"Which is part of the problem Marce." Hailey replies, looking at Jay who gestures towards Hailey while looking at Marcie and mouths, "I'm with her."

"You two really don't know love when it smacks you in the balls, that's the problem," Marcie complains.

Jay's about to reply when he sees Hailey's expression change, and he looks to his right to see Barnet.

"Wanna drink, Ryan?" Marcie asks.

Jay shakes his head, "No thanks Marce, sticking to water tonight."

Marcie looks ready to protest but Jay's already turned away and Hailey watches him leave, becoming an expert in crossing her fingers and all of her limbs that everything will be smooth this time.

\- - - -

Flynn's not there again. And neither's Hunt. Only Price and Barnet and their deceptively supportive smiles.

Jay bypasses the carafe for reasons he's not even certain of. Instead, he goes to the water fountain in the corner; he considers asking to use the bathroom so he can make sure the wire's working but doesn't get the chance.

Jay's more nervous than he had been, and it's not really a surprise in some ways because of what happened last time, it's just it's unexpected now he's here.

Jay usually has a handle on things, Jay normally tunes things out enough that the nerves or the adrenaline dump comes later. This, _this_ is like when he was in The Rangers. Every single time something was about to go wrong in a way that Afghanistan could go wrong, Jay had felt the nerves.

He sits down heavily on the chair.

Except the chair turns out to be the floor and Jay blinks confused even as he feels hands lift him, the grip firm on his arms followed by a grip and a brief sharp painful sensation that's gone in an instant.

And the lights don't turn off this time, they flicker in and out, like someone's controlling a dimmer switch but in Jay's head instead of the room.

It's like he's floating. Can hear a voice, insistent.

_Talk to us, tell us, you're safe here. They tortured you, didn't they? You're safe here, tell us Ryan, tell us. Only we can help, we'll make all this better. Listen to us, only us._

Jay's aware of everything in slow motion about twenty seconds behind it happening. How he murmurs a half hearted 'No,' twenty seconds after the sense of euphoria had left him as he says words doesn't understand.

The way he repeats 'No' several times when the memories come crashing down upon him.

The way he hears their words again and can see himself speak, hear himself speak, but he can't understand what he's saying because the words come mixed in with tears, with hysteria rather than euphoria.

The screams must be part of the nightmare? Part of some figment of his imagination. Right?

He shuts his eyes because he needs to rest, he's tired of seeing himself, he's tired of hearing himself, _them,_ anyone.

It's safer to sleep. Even if that means he won't wake up. Jay blinks his eyes open at that thought because that was what almost killed him last time. The last time he was in Korengal Valley. That's what they're relying on.

Too bad that his mind realizes, but his body betrays him and his eyes fall shut, anyway.

\- - - -

It feels like lightning has struck twice when Hailey leaves without seeing Jay emerge from downstairs.

She considers waiting around. The weather's too cold to stand nearby though and in the brief time she'd spent in her car watching the exit to the alley, there had been someone at the door the whole time.

Too wrapped up in clothing suitable for the weather for her to identify them. There nevertheless, though.

She regrets her decision as soon as she sets foot in her apartment and checks her own cell, sees the words and mouths, "Fuck," with all the anger in her. Anger, confusion, everything.

She presses the call button and holds the phone to her ear, Antonio answers straightaway.

"We got no idea what the hell happened," Antonio says before she can speak, says something that comes with a tone which sounds a lot like despair and quiet simmering anger clear in his voice.

"And we don't know what the hell is happening to Jay," Hailey points out, rubbing her face, trying to think as quick as she can of a solution, a reason for it happening, "Did you get _anything?_ "

"Yeah, a little longer this time but nothing we can use then suddenly nothing. Interference, like someone had stood on the wire and crushed it."

"Except last time we found no sign of damage."

"Yeah," Dawson sighs in agreement.

"They had eyes from the side door tonight."

"Price or Barnet you think?"

"I couldn't tell from the distance, but I guess so. Are we even certain they keep Jay there or anyone who they've helped?" Hailey does air quotes with one hand to the room, knowing Antonio will get it even though he's on the other end of the line.

"We can put someone nearby now."

"And risk them seeing us? And what if Jay's not even there? Nah, I think we got to hope that either I get a message like last time or Jay gets out without needing to be found."

"He'll be okay, Hailey," Antonio's reassurance isn't as convincing as it could be, "We're onto Tech tomorrow about the wire. Voight was in half a mind to go tonight."

"Call me if you get anything?" Hailey responds, sinking onto the couch, the weight of worry and the frustration exhausting.

"Sure and you'll let us know if you hear anything about Jay?"

"Yeah. Bye Antonio," she presses the end call button and drops the phone onto the couch, leaning forward and rubbing her temples, "Where are you, Jay?" she says aloud before she straightens, pulling the UC phone from her jeans pocket and holding the device between both hands, willing the message alert to sound.

The cell rings at a similar time of the morning as the last time and she's not asleep, really she isn't, she'd only shut her eyes to rest them.

A call instead of a message. She sits up and presses the answer call button.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is that Paula? Um, Paula Wilson?" A male voice. Against a busy backdrop of noise. She thinks she can hear announcements over a tannoy.

"Yeah. Paula speaking," she replies knowing already it's about Jay, perhaps Marcie actually but no, Hailey's instinct tells her it's Jay because it makes sense after last time. She crosses her fingers, shuts her eyes as she asks, "Who's this?"

"My name's Dr Kravitz, I'm a doctor from Northwestern Memorial. We had a guy brought in a little while ago, someone brought him in and gave your details to the receptionist. Said you were his emergency contact."

"Who? Who did this person bring in?"

"Ryan Foster. Is he known to you?"

That Dr. Kravitz doesn't sound too somber relaxes Hailey a little.

"Yeah, I know Ryan, is he okay?"

"He's generally fine. Listen, if you can come in ASAP, he's being fairly argumentative, wants to sign himself out AMA but if the results of the tox screens come back as I think they will. He shouldn't be alone or go home alone."

A million questions and thoughts spring to mind, but one thing stands out. That they've run tox screens on Jay. Tox screens within a timeframe that could show something even if the results take days.

It's something, at least.

Hailey's picking up her coat, feeling in the pockets for the car keys and is already on her way in the elevator down to her car as she says, "I'm on my way."

\- - - -

Jay's caught between exhaustion and irritation and an overwhelming urge to escape. Escape from here and escape from what happens each time he shuts his eyes.

Each time he closes his eyes though, he can't sleep, he can't escape because the memories come back, the sights, the sounds.

He keeps trying to escape here but there's always a nurse or a doctor ready to push him gently back onto the bed and tell him his emergency contact is on their way.

In his confusion, Jay's terrified that the initial relief he'd felt as soon as he was in any fit state to notice that he'd not been brought to Med and therefore the risk of seeing Will wasn't a reality had been premature.

That the emergency contact is Will and that someone will see him. Someone dangerous and just like that everything will get even more complicated. The op will go South and all Jay'll be left with are the memories he's spent so long trying to forget.

At least the attending had been on the ball. Jay's been through a series of tox screens. Urine, blood, saliva and if the time is right on the clock on the wall of the bay he's in, they did the screens within the time that if they were right last time and the drug _was_ GHB, there's a chance it'll be detected.

That coupled with the wire could mean at least there'll be some kind of clue, some kind of breakthrough.

Jay needs it. Needs this as much as a person needs oxygen. Something to give him hope that the cost is worth it. That he knows every time he shuts his eyes, at least for the next couple of days, he'll wish he had matchsticks to hold them open.

When the doctor walks in, Kravitz, Jay thinks is his name and a quick glance at the name badge confirms his thought, he's followed by someone.

"Ryan!"

Hailey's look of relief and concern doesn't seem like an act, something put on for the doctor's benefit. It warms Jay even while he's confused. How did she know he was here? How did he even get here?

Unless.

Another mystery.

"As I said on the phone and as I was just explaining to you, Ms Wilson. Ryan's okay, all his symptoms, everything he presented with is consistent with GHB or some people know it better as Liquid X or Liquid Ecstasy. When he first came in, when I first saw him, he was still experiencing moments of euphoria but that was followed by exhaustion, listlessness. These are classic symptoms so I ran some tox screens. We should be within the window and we'll inform you as soon as we have results," Kravitz explains to them both, looking at Jay for the final few words.

Jay nods, "Can I go now?"

Kravitz turns to Hailey, "Will you be with him?"

Hailey nods at the Doctor before she smiles at Jay so softly as she scrutinizes him and not for the first time, it's too much for Jay and he lowers his eyes, his head and looks away.

"Yeah, I'll be with him."

"Ok, good then he can go. You have his insurance details?"

"Yeah, I do. I gave them when I came in," once again she's grateful that they dot every i and cross every t in the process for putting someone under so it wasn't a stumbling block here.

"Great, then you can leave Mr Foster," The doctor looks from Hailey to Jay, "I'm confident that if it is GHB, you've not suffered an overdose though continued exposure is always a concern. Please monitor him and if his condition worsens, call 911," he instructs Hailey who murmurs her agreement as Jay pushes himself from the bed and is pleased that he doesn't wobble.

He feels a little dizzy but more like he's been on an airplane for multiple hours or a ship for days and he's got motion sickness than anything else.

Kravitz is walking to the door when he stops and pats the doorway, "Oh yeah, and I checked. There were no signs of assault, you have two cuts though, one on your hand but that could be a paper cut and one on your neck which could be anything so I'm confident you've not been assaulted but please remember to report this to the police if you need to and particularly if you don't know how you ingested the drug."

"Thanks Doc," Jay replies, his fingertips searching for the cut on the back of his neck. The cut that's not sore so he probably cut it getting out the van sometime or some other way he can't quite place right now.

"Yeah thanks Doc," Hailey starts before she says to Jay, "Wait here," and follows Kravitz to the nurses' station, "Doctor, do you know who brought Ryan in?"

Kravitz picks up a clipboard and scans the contents, shaking his head, "They didn't leave a name according to this. Gave your details and left. Honestly, as long as they provided contact details and as long as we see no sign of assault or worse, we're too busy as you can see to worry about anything other than be grateful he was brought in," he places the clipboard down and looks behind Hailey, nodding, "I got to go, other patients to treat."

Hailey nods even though he's already gone, and she turns fully to see Jay leaning against the doorway, looking more tired than he had before so she walks over to him and tilts her head to one side before she lifts her hand and sweeps at his hair, making it neater, less like he's been through hell again, less like he'll go through hell one more time when he knows the wire failed.

"Let's get you home," she says as she links her own arm with his and he leans into her all the way back to the car.


	15. Chapter 15

Knowing what she knows. Knowing what she has to tell him, Hailey doesn't attempt small-talk on the way to Jay's apartment.

Instead, she occasionally casts glances towards him as he stares out the window, looking exhausted and like he wants to shut his eyes and sleep so badly but each time he does, he opens the window slightly, the icy air instantly making the car colder and his eyes stay open a little longer.

The ramifications are clear. Whatever happened this time had more of an effect on him than the last time. Making it even harder to tell him.

Ten minutes later, and Jay's sat opposite Hailey in his small apartment. The apartment nowhere near as comfortable as Hailey's which given Hailey's studio isn't pristine, or that homely says a lot.

Hailey's about to tell him, trying to find the right moment when Jay tenses, sets the mug of coffee he'd been holding down on the table and says, flatly but with anger underlying the action.

"Didn't work again, did it?"

He doesn't need to clarify the 'it' of course he doesn't and Hailey doesn't need to respond but she does, anyway.

"Voight's gonna put Tech on blast later today."

"What if there's nothing wrong with the wire and something else entirely? What if we're at a dead end and all we got is me being drugged? Flynn disappearing off the face of the earth, or is he? Is he the one who brought me in? He wasn't around last night again. Neither was Hunt."

"There was a guy at the rear exit after I left," Hailey responds, "I tried to stay to see if you were there, but maybe you'd already been taken from there. I got no idea who the person was. We can check the hospital footage from reception and the entrances. I'll make sure someone checks today. This isn't the end, Jay, we'll find out what's going on with the wire. Ruzek's going into one of the bars with the deliveries next week. We'll find out what's happening."

Jay shakes his head and stands up, picking up the coffee mug as he does and walking back over to the kettle, turning it on and putting more instant coffee granules in the mug.

"And what if we don't?" he spits out, "What if I'm out of luck? What if the kid, Morgan, was my cue to leave this job and I'm the last person who should be undercover? What if all this is something I'm doing wrong?"

Hailey stands up and walks over to Jay, to his side, "Jay, none of this is down to you, it's pure bad luc-."

He pours the boiling water into the mug, stirs the liquid and steps past her without looking at her.

"With one common denominator."

"Jay, we will get to the bottom of it. We _will_ resolve it. I think someone should check out and talk with Steven Flynn. Everything we heard from Healey supports the idea he's good or if not good, he's not the worst. We'll keep checking to see if there's any trace of Anthony Hunt. We'll keep digging."

Jay still doesn't look at her, instead he mutters, "Ok, I'm okay. I'll call in and say I'll be late if Barnet doesn't beat me to it that is, you can go Hailey."

She turns away and almost does. She has her hand on the door to leave but then she turns, sees the way he's just staring into nothing and she lets go of the door.

"I hear that you're okay, Jay, I do. Dr Kravitz said to stay for a little while though, so I'm going to. We don't have to say anything, I'll keep making coffee and when it's time to make calls, I'll go or go do them quietly elsewhere. Till then I'll stay."

She sits down opposite Jay again, sees the minute nod of his head. Hopes somewhere in his head, there's comfort in knowing he's not alone. Just like it's comfort for her being here with him despite everything.

\- - - -

Jay's too tired to argue and perhaps her being here will give his brain enough stimulus to mean he won't fall asleep or his eyes won't betray him and try to shut.

He makes some decisions in the time he's staring into space. One that he won't drink when next time not even if he sees Hailey prepare the drink. Jay trusts her; he does, but who's to say there isn't some sneaky way it still gets through to Jay.

He won't drink water again either. Even if that means he has to pretend. Even if it means he goes to take a drink but this time doesn't swallow.

Even if the fact he does this means he has to live through everything. More appropriately, relive everything. He knows enough, can remember from last night and more because it's crystal clear each time he does shut his eyes what he talked about last night.

He knows because while he pushed the memories far down for a while, it's always been there waiting to pull him under again. Biding the time it takes for him to fall into that pit of despair once more. And as long as he's got enough awareness, at least it means he won't fall deep, right?

He's not sure if it's funny or really fucking depressing that he almost believes it. Always the hope that dies last, isn't it?

\- - - -

Burgess and Dawson knock on the door of the Flynn home in Edgewater.

The snow's falling again, there's a feel of Christmas to the street they're on. Lights bedecked on roofs and wreaths on the front door of most of the houses except for the Flynn's which isn't surprising given they're childless now and even if they weren't, David was grown-up, no kids so no grandchildren to fuss over.

Kev and Adam are checking out the footage from the hospital while Kim and Antonio have come to speak to Flynn. Or that's the plan, except there's no sign of anyone and no answer at the door. Antonio peers in through the window, but sees no sign of life.

Places like Edgewater are close-knit, familial places. They don't have to wait too long till a neighbor appears from next door. A slightly older than middle-aged woman with glasses and a smile on her face.

"Helen left town the week before Thanksgiving week. I thought Steve had gone with her. She's gone to see family. But I saw him a few days later in Helen's car. He left with a suitcase and I've seen nothing of him since. Could be he left to go with Helen."

"He said nothing to you? Nor Helen?"

The woman shakes her head, "No which is odd cause Helen's very open with me, asks me to water the plants but her leaving happened so quickly," the woman frowns, "They aren't in trouble are they? They've had such a terrible time, but I thought they'd be okay, but you don't know what happens behind closed doors, right?"

"Ma'am, do you have any way to contact Mrs Flynn?" Kim asks, ignoring the questions.

"Cheryl Adams, and yeah, I do. I got a number. I could try her but she takes a long time to respond trust me but sure, give me your details and if I see anything or hear anything, I'll call you."

Kim nods gratefully, trotting down the steps from the Flynn's porch and over to Mrs Adam's porch where she hands over a card to her and the woman takes it from her promising she'll let Kim know if she has news.

Kim rejoins Antonio in the car.

"So, Helen Flynn leaves town and Steven Flynn either follows her or goes to ground, into hiding," Antonio says.

"Right around the same time Anthony Hunt vanishes after he reappears and after Jay had spoken to him," Kim adds.

"Feels like something and yet we still got a lot of nothing," Antonio exhales as he starts the engine.

"We gotta hope we get something from the CCTV at the hospital."

"Yeah," Kim says, her tone flat, resigned already somehow to the prospect of a step forward followed soon by a step backward if the patterns in this case continue.

\- - - -

It's almost time for Hailey to go to the bar and she could do with going back to her place for a shower and a change of clothes.

She knows Kim and Antonio will have been to the Flynn's by now and she hopes for a glimmer of light. Some fresh information or failing that that CCTV will do its job for once.

She stays with Jay till the time comes to go. Takes a shower and finds a fresh towel placed on top of the little stand in the bathroom, underneath the towel is a flannel shirt. Too big for her but as she holds the shirt up and sniffs the material, it's clean and that's all that matters.

Hailey smiles at Jay's thoughtfulness, his presence of mind and maybe for his part some level of gratitude expressed to Hailey for the distraction. The excuse to stay alert instead of succumbing to the need for sleep.

She feels a thousand times more human as she steps out of the bathroom and makes her way into the living area where Jay's looking at his cell.

"Thanks for the loan of the shirt," she says as she sits down in front of him,

Jay looks up, and she sees a hint of a smile on his face as he looks at her.

"It fits you okay, better than I thought," then as if he's said too much somehow rather than merely loaning her a shirt, he raises the phone and gestures toward it changing the subject quickly, "I messaged Barnet saying I wouldn't be in till later. He's not responded yet."

"You should rest," Hailey suggests.

Jay doesn't reply, instead makes a non-committal sounding noise and raises his hand to rub his neck, frowning as he does and pulling his hand away, raising his eyebrows at the slight amount of blood that's on his fingertips.

"Huh."

Hailey's up and stood behind him, looking at the cut that's not big enough to be dangerous or a threat to Jay's life perhaps, but minor cuts can often smart the most.

"You've got no idea how the cut happened?"

Jay shakes his head, "No, I guess I could've caught my neck on the van or something and didn't realize. It's fine."

"If you have some needle and cotton, I could sew it up for you," Hailey suggests.

Jay turns to look at her, a genuine smile on his face, "You really are a little MacGyver aren't you, Hailey?"

Hailey rolls her eyes, "No, but I'm pretty confident with some needle and thread and I've sewn some cuts before in my time, Jay."

"Oh?"

"That's for another time, I can sew it up if you think it could bleed again easily but as long as you remember not to scratch, it'll heal okay."

"I'll be good, thanks Hailey," Jay replies, his tone genuine, his demeanor brighter than in hours.

"Ok, well I'll get you another coffee and then I'll head to the bar," she picks up Jay's mug and walks over to the kitchen area, flicking the kettle on as a message alert sounds on Jay's phone.

"Well, _this_ is unexpected" Jay stands up and joins Hailey in the kitchen by the counter and shows her the screen.

**You did excellent work last night, Foster. We're getting somewhere. How about we go again? This afternoon. 2.30pm. Needless to say, don't show up for work.**

\- - - -

One of the first things Kevin realized he should get a handle on doing this job and quick was patience, perseverance too.

This case has been a salutary lesson in the need for both. From the malfunctions in Jay's wire to the constant one step forward followed by steps upon more steps backward, it's a test of resolve and not losing focus despite the setbacks.

He's been scanning the CCTV footage from the hospital for the last hour, still nothing. Well, that's a lie, there _is_ something. That something being Jay leaning against the nothing.

The 'nothing' that's a fully functioning, fully mobile human being except there's not a thing that can identify them. They keep their head down during the time they're at reception and they're dressed all in black, a hat and snood/balaclava covering their face so all you can see is a little of their eyes.

Kev's zoomed in but the quality of the image gets exponentially worse the more he zooms. Maybe tech can do a better job so he fires off an email asking them to try. Wishing they still had Mouse here to do it for them, to give Kev and all of them the answers they need now, not in several hours or more.

There's no sign of how Jay and the other person got to the hospital. They'd been smart enough not to park nearby or even be dropped off in the sight of CCTV footage. It's frustrating but unsurprising. Whoever the person is, they're smart.

Adam's behind him on another computer, silent except for the periodic sound of him tapping the keyboard fast and sometimes murmuring a frustrated 'No,' followed by an occasional, _very_ occasional, 'yes, come on."

He's been silent for a few minutes when suddenly he smacks the desk hard and Kev doesn't even flinch. Par for the course with Ruz.

"What you got?" Kev asks as he turns around in his chair.

Adam beckons him closer, "Kim said the neighbor told her and Antonio that Flynn came back in his wife's car a week or so ago so I ran a check on Helen Flynn's vehicle. Nothing at first, till I checked our records and patrol had a report to attend a vehicle on fire. Want me to tell you where the vehicle was found and when it was reported on fire?"

Kevin gives him a 'DUH' kind of look and Adam grins.

"Ok, sorry, man. They reported the fire in the early hours of Wednesday 22nd November. As for where," Adam brings up a map and points to the screen, "4 blocks from where Hailey found Jay after she got the message from the burner phone."

Kevin stands up, leans in closer and exchanges a glance with Adam, slapping his shoulder as he does.

"Flynn. We need to tell Voight."

Adam nods and stands up, ready to follow Kevin, but Voight appears in front of them before they can move and barks impatiently at them.

"Tell Voight what? Doesn't matter, you can tell me on the way back to the bullpen. We just got a call from Upton. Halstead's got another meeting. This afternoon. We need eyes on the place this time, now tell Voight what?"

\- - - -

Hailey recalls the conversation with Jay back at his apartment as she stands behind the bar. The concern she'd expressed. The concern that Jay had scarcely bothered to hide.

The testing of Jay's wire equipment and the device seeming to work perfectly.

Voight had been concerned too - mirroring theirs and had given Jay the get-out. Knowing Jay well enough that he wouldn't back away, wouldn't say no despite the risks.

She'd left Jay, reluctantly. He's due at the bar any moment, but everything feels different this time. Marcie not being here for one.

No message at all to Paula to say she wasn't showing up. No acknowledgement or mention of her in the brief time Barnet had spent in the bar just after Hailey had opened up.

And there's something beyond all this niggling at Hailey, something about everything she's learned particularly in the last day or so that feels like if she can stop it niggling and make it come to the fore more, the reveal will be something gigantic or at least gigantic compared to everything else so far.

Then Jay arrives, and she pushes the thoughts away, tries to transmit confidence his way and quell her nerves enough, being the normal Paula as Jay plays the regular Ryan as she gives him his usual drink.

The Ryan that's exhibiting signs of stress but ever the former military man tries to keep below the surface. Ryan and Jay are just different versions of the same side of one coin.

The door opens in the corner ten minutes early and Jay lifts the glass, swallows and places a bill on the bar, tapping the surface gently and smiling at Hailey as he slides off the stool.

Hailey watches him go till he's through the door. 3rd time lucky with the wire, she hopes. If not, what the hell do they do next?

She looks down at the glass ready to pick it up, wash it but despite Jay looking like he'd taken a sip when the door had opened and Barnet had been watching him. It's untouched, as full as it had been when she'd placed the glass on the bar in front of him. It fills Hailey both with hope and fear.

The realization of that and the memory of watching Jay as he walked towards the door is what turns the niggle into something so blindingly obvious. To the point she wants to kick herself that it hadn't crossed her mind before.

She reaches down for her jacket shoved into one shelf in the corner under the bar feeling for her own cell not the UC one, pulls it out and thanks her foresight, the instinct that had told her to bring it and then she rounds the bar, heading toward Terry.

"Terry, look after the bar for 5 for me?"

"Sure thing, Paula." she hears as she walks through the entrance out onto the sidewalk and far enough away even though it's freezing that prying eyes., if there are any, won't easily be able to find her.

\- - - -

Price offers Jay water, but he says no and they don't argue, instead, Jay observes them sharing a long glance and sees a nod and a smirk on Barnet's face as he looks at Price.

Jay pretending he'd had the drink Hailey had prepared for him was enough to convince Barnet from a distance then. That's the straightforward part.

Jay's good at undercover but he's no Oscar worthy actor, and he has to do enough to prove that he's under the influence of GHB assuming that's what the tox screens will confirm had happened to him.

It's easier than he thinks to feign a loss of balance, to feign confusion. He feels Price's hand on his shoulder, then his neck and what he realizes is the familiar sharp pain around the area where the cut is.

"That's right, Ryan, we got you. Right Pete? We got you, Foster."

Jay sits on the chair, Price behind him and Barnet looming in front of him.

"You were very candid with us yesterday, Foster. Told us a lot about the torture. About the pain and the sensation of drowning. About the beatings and the little girl you shot dead. Tell us more. We can help you. Tell us more."

The hysteria he can recall feeling at one point is easier to summon than he thought it would be. The fear is as familiar as breathing in and out. Luckily for Jay, he can recall his army training from years ago. How to withstand torture, how to pretend you're one thing on the surface while your legs kick frantically away from anyone's view underneath.

Whatever way you look at this, what these men are doing. What Jay's about to comply with: it's just an extension of the torture he's endured before.

It doesn't matter if ultimately Jay gets these men and justice for those lost already. The surface has been scratched and there's no way Jay can know if he can ever put what was hiding underneath away again.

Jay hopes he stays sane long enough to see justice happen, that's all.

He inhales and exhales and laughs.

"The pain oh yeah. The worst day was.. it was a Tuesday."

\- - - -

Kim answers Hailey's call explaining that Ruzek and Olinsky have eyes on the bar not that Hailey can see them from where she's stood and that Atwater and Dawson are following up leads on the burned-out car and searching pod footage again from where and when Jay had been found by Hailey.

Somehow it's no surprise to Hailey with the news about Helen Flynn's car. That it's likely Flynn who's been Jay's protector/savior in this so far. Even though all this still feels too simple, even though they've taken so long to get to this point.

Hailey pushes the negative thinking to the back of her mind though and she's grateful for Kim recognizing that she needs to discuss something else.

Just because you find something of interest doesn't mean you back off from everything else, you pursue everything else even more doggedly because you flick one domino soon enough the others will follow. In theory.

"Anyway, aren't you working? What do you need? Is Jay okay?"

"I am. I think Jay is. Do we know if the wire's working? Though don't answer yet because depending on what you can find, I think I'll know."

"Ok, I'm listening. Go."

"Right. I need you to bring up the autopsy reports for at least two victims."

Hailey can hear Kim tapping away at her keyboard and half a minute later, she speaks.

"Gotcha. Give me a sec, ok, I opened up Flynn's and Stapleton's," she pauses before adding, "Also Farmer's. What am I looking for?"

"Record of a minor cut on the back of their neck. A small one, maybe an inch or even half an inch wide. Could have been healing or fresh, a reopened wound."

Hailey listens as she hears Kim muttering as she scans the first report.

"Ok, right, Eddie Stapleton? Second to last page, slight abrasion or reopened cut back of his neck. Half an inch in width is mentioned. I'm looking at Craig Farmer's now."

"Thanks," Hailey murmurs, shivering slightly as a gust of wind sweeps by her.

"Ok, Craig Farmer. A reopened cut: half an inch in width on the back of his neck. Now I'm checking David Flynn's."

Hailey almost forgets to breathe in the seconds before Kim speaks again.

"Bingo. David Flynn. A cut on the back of his neck too, half an inch in width. You got a pattern Hailey but what does it mean, what are you thinking?"

Hailey straightens, her mind running nineteen to the dozen, the implications not crystal clear but a firm theory forming in her mind.

"Jay has a cut, a reopened one, half an inch in width on the back of his neck. Let's imagine that some kind of device would be the perfect thing to cause interference, to make sure that if someone knew something was happening to them and tried to record what happened to them, it would never work and all we have to go on has been a tiny cut."

"Why not just something within the room itself?"

"These guys, Kim? You really think they'd pass up on the opportunity to inflict even the slightest bit more pain on their victims?"

"Yeah, I guess. And if you're right, it doesn't matter how good the wire is, nothing would ever work with guys as security conscious and suspicious of anyone and everything as Price and Barnet."

"Yep," Hailey agrees.

"Holy shit," Kim exclaims then calms immediately, "Ok, Hailey, you need to get back in there. I'll let Olinsky and Ruzek know, and I'll let Voight and the others know here too. This is big."

Big but terrifying is all Hailey can think. Big, but where and how do you protect Jay from people capable of all of this? How do you even start?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of it is artistic licence but I do try stay close to what I read/research otherwise.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter continues where the last one left off for Jay. It's not a simple ride for him for the first little bit, so please be aware of that. Also a lot of research went into things like the chips though specific info hard to come by so improvization needed so please squint a bit!

Where minutes ago in the memories he's reliving it was Tuesday, now it's Wednesday.

All Jay can think about is that the color was peach. The color of the Halstead bathroom fittings when Jay was a kid, that is. Peach with green paint on the walls.

When Jay got in fights as a child, he'd yell a cheery 'hello' to his mom and disappear upstairs to clean himself, to wipe the blood away.

The first few times he got away with it and no one came upstairs. If his mom noticed a graze, she'd mouth, 'You ok?' to him and he'd nod because it was easier.

Even if it meant that tomorrow would be a repeat; more of the same.

One day, he got too casual. Thought he was safe, and he'd left the door unlocked. Hadn't even stopped wiping his face with the sponge when he'd heard her come up the stairs.

He still remembers the way she'd raised his chin. The way she'd been smiling, soothing and warm before the smile had disappeared and she'd breathed out 'Oh honey' and how for a moment she'd looked towards the door and she'd said, 'It wasn't him?'.

They'd both known what she meant. Who she meant, and no was the answer because for all his faults. Pat Halstead isn't violent, at least not with words.

She'd made him promise that if he wouldn't let her go to the school and talk to his teachers. At least he'd let her fix him up after.

Green drapes separate the area where Jay's kept from civilization. Family. The smell of food. That makes Jay's stomach make noises to show how hungry he is.

A hand cups his chin, tilting it upwards. He sees teeth and a smile right before there's an explosion of pain as the hand that tilted his chin upwards, squeezes to a fist and he'd fall to the floor on the chair if not for the guys either side of him gripping the chair tight.

Jay would give anything to be home with his mother right now. Regrets that he hadn't taken the opportunity to go home the moment he'd heard the news. Had emailed her because she was avoiding calls and said he'd be by her side in an instant if she needed him.

'It can wait' she'd written.

What if waiting means he never gets the chance? She won't lift his chin and sigh with worry. Jay won't get the chance to take care of her for a change. He'll be yet another KIA statistic. Nothing more than a series of letters on a gravestone.

"Tell us what you know, we won't have to do anything else. We'll take all the pain away."

After ten seconds of an unblinking stare, the pretense of a lack of fear, the explosion of pain happened again except this time, the men either side of him let him fall, let his head crack against the floor.

"Get the water," he'd heard, though his eyes remained shut.

followed by

"That's right. Keep going. We'll take all the pain away."

Jay's eyes fly open as a hand tilts his chin upwards and Price smirks before looking behind him.

"Damn, almost Pete, almost."

Jay knows they think he's out of it. That he doesn't notice the way they seem happy, gleeful at Jay's apparent distress, but ultimately frustrated that he'd stopped short of the worst of what happened to him.

At least outwardly.

Jay's mind travels beyond the moment the head guy, DelNawaz, had requested the water. Takes him far beyond that moment so he could shut his eyes and let it overcome him if he wanted. Playing the memory like clockwork. Like a film, and he's the narrator.

It's an advantage Jay realizes that he can choose at what moment to become more aware so they don't quite take everything from him. They don't get the benefit of what would be too much for them to know.

It's a distinct disadvantage to his everyday life, to the sleep he knows he'll lose for weeks to come that it feels like it's yesterday now. Along with the pain of the memories of clinging on so he'd get to go home to his mother. In time to witness her decline.

"It's early. We can go again. Give him some more?" Barnet suggests as he crouches down next to Price to Jay's right.

Price looks thoughtful but shakes his head, "Not after that one time with you know who. Almost didn't get him back."

"Given he was dead 3 days later, can't understand why we even bothered getting him back."

"You know why, Peter. We don't have to be reckless. We got time with his one, ain't we Ryan? We're close, I can smell it."

The trouble with Jay is he's stubborn. The trouble with Jay is that he pushes himself a little too far each time.

He breathes in, breathes out, breathes in, breathes out, breathes in till a cloth covers his head and suddenly he's overwhelmed by water, a barrage of it. If he could remember his training, he could survive this. If he remembered not to panic, he'd be fine.

If he could only remember what he'd learned. What the training guys in his unit had been so impressed with. His mettle, his ability to cut everything out and simply hold his nerve through the pain and panic.

If he wasn't so focused on trying not to drown and the panic he feels. If he can just find that place in his head where he can pretend it's not happening he could be okay. He's proven that he can be okay before. Except that was training, that wasn't real like this.

When he's blacking out, when his lungs are burning and darkness claws at his vision and he's almost ready to accept his fate. Suddenly he can breathe again and more than that he can see, but it hurts. Hurts so much and he splutters, water flying everywhere, vomit that's only water spills onto his body and onto the floor around him and he moans. A quiet, broken sound. Or at least he thinks he's quiet.

Slowly he regains his composure, and he convinces himself he can handle all this. Till a hand grips the back of his neck, the cloth covers his face again and he thinks he screams out 'No!' and his mouth is still open as more water falls on him like a million tsunamis at once and the burning is instant.

He thinks he hears a voice. Probably DelNawaz saying:

_No, we got to keep going. You're okay, you're doing great._

Then he doesn't hear a thing, and the darkness comes faster.

And all he can hear in his head is no more, no fucking more, no more I can't fucking do this anymore. He's surprised that he can think and hear this coherently given he's drowning.

Somehow he hears those same words once more, encroaching, intruding, invading his senses.

_No, we got to keep going. You're okay, you're doing great._

Given the way his breath gets stolen from him each time the water tumbles onto his face and the grip on his body either side of him stays in place like he's in a vice so he can't move and the way it seems to happen quicker each time, he doubts they're right.

One more time he hears the same words.

_No, we got to keep going. You're okay, you're doing great._

He's done though, and he kicks out, makes contact, hears a satisfying yell and screams out, "NO MORE. I SWEAR NO MORE."

Hands leave his body and he sinks to the floor, panting, sobbing, pulling at the cloth on his face. Crying for his mom like he's 10 years old again. When he opens his eyes, he expects to see the green drapes, to see DelNawaz's face.

He doesn't expect chair legs and a table that looks modern. Doesn't expect to see a face that doesn't fit in Afghanistan. Nothing he sees fits with the Afghanistan he'd known. And that's when he remembers. Somehow its worse.

He moans and cries as he whispers, "No," and he tries to keep his eyes open but he's tired. No, he's exhausted, and he lays his head down. Just for a small sleep. Honestly.

Jay tries to keep his eyes open as he's dragged up the stairs and taken outside. He's more with it now. More in this moment. He tries to search for the person Hailey had seen at the exit point, but either there is no one or he loses consciousness for a while.

The movement of the van he's put in pulls him into a state of half consciousness until the door opens and there's a blast of air and coldness that settles into his bones as he's propped against something followed by a sharp pain on his neck for a second that's gone as fast as it happened. A familiar feeling of discomfort.

They leave him in that place. Left for dead or hoping he gets out of it like they all did, maybe till the last time they didn't.

It's easier and somehow less upsetting to focus on that than allow his eyes to shut, allow sleep and the inevitable nightmares to follow.

* * *

"We should've followed them, Al." Adam thumps the steering wheel.

"And risk them catching the tail? These guys aren't stupid. Neither's Halstead."

"Tonight was a bust, nothing on the wire. No one waiting at the side exit tonight. All we got is Upton's theory on a damn chip. Also, doesn't matter if he's stupid or not. These guys are also murderers."

Al gives him a look, "Who aren't ready to kill again. Not yet."

"And what if you're wrong?"

"I'm not," Olinsky answers, certain.

"I damn sure hope you're right, O. I really do." Adam turns the car round and heads back toward the 21st. The bar 's been closed for almost an hour and Upton had left sometime ago to head back to her place.

Me too, kid. Me too, Al thinks.

\- - - -

Snowflakes are beautiful to see when you're indoors. Wrapped up and shielded from the reality of the cold that comes with them.

Winter in Afghanistan brought snowflakes as large as he's seen in Chicago. Not as cold perhaps but you got used to warmer weather. Associated warmer weather with the country so it had been a shock to a young Jay Halstead who had not left the US before travelling to this other country to kill men his age and barely out of childhood boys just a few years younger than him.

Belatedly Jay realizes he's in that spiral now where everything reminds him of that country. Even snow in his hometown.

A downward spiral.

He should move because that would take his mind away from the thoughts. Except he's dead tired. He knows hypothermia, and he's not at that point yet, but if he carries on sitting like that, he will be.

Still, lying here and thinking about Afghanistan and not wanting to cry is a novel experience so he stays put.

Jay thinks he hears an engine, thinks he sees headlights, and he definitely hears footsteps and he blinks stupidly up toward where the direction he figures he should.

He sees the silhouette of someone. Someone tall. Someone who crouches. For a second thinks he recognizes the figure but that thought disappears as quickly as the figure who nods before they hurry away and Jay definitely hears the engine this time and the way the vehicle speeds away.

He should absolutely get up now. Especially if no one knows he's here, so he does. He stands up, and it takes an alarming amount of effort to make it upright and stay there.

Too much effort. He feels winded and foggy and it occurs to him that perhaps somehow they drugged him after all.

Not that it's worth worrying about now, he decides as he shuts his eyes where he stands and sinks back down to the ground nearer to the sidewalk.

Not so worried about nightmares, for now at least.

\- - - -

No one had noticed when Hailey had come back after the call to Burgess. She'd handed Terry an extra drink on her return to say thank you and he'd smirked and said 'You didn't need to. Not as though this place ever gets busy'.

That was earlier. Now she's leaning against the kitchen counter in the apartment, sipping at water, an eye on her UC phone at all times.

Olinsky just called on her own cell. If things go the way the previous times did, she should hear from someone soon. Sooner rather than later she hopes because the snow's relentless tonight.

In the time she's been home, she's looked up microchips. Learned more than she could ever want to about them and yet she still understands little of the specifics. Hopefully, they'll learn more tomorrow. She almost wants to be proved wrong because placing chips in a person's body even if it's temporary?

Like every single sci-fi movie about the future coming to life and in their world. It's all kinds of frightening and invasive.

Her UC phone vibrates, and she swipes at the screen to read the full message:

Alley next to the Spirit of Truth church. 3438 W Harrison St. It's cold. Be quick.

Hailey doesn't need to look twice, and she pulls on her jacket before picking up her keys, jabbing at the phone, pressing the dial button and holding the cell to her ear as she shuts the door behind her.

Already disconnected. A different burner than the last. Same person as the last time that she feels she knows for certain.

It's almost 4 miles, and she gets there in quick time, the snow's slowed a little but it feels colder.

Hailey sees Jay almost immediately. Huddled in between two dumpsters. His hair is damp to the touch and his lips a white with a touch of blue. He's breathing though, and he opens his eyes albeit sluggishly when she calls his name.

"What time do you call this?" he gets out even while his teeth chatter and he shivers.

"I'm pleased to see you too," she replies, smiling as she helps him up and to the car, turning on the heat a little but not too much. She watches him for a minute, for any sign that he needs further medical treatment.

"I'm okay, Hailey. Take me somewhere I can sleep."

"Got it," she pulls away and drives.

\- - - -

"Ok. Thanks Hailey, tell him we're glad he's okay," Kim hears Hailey's response, "Yeah, we're here at Tech now. I'll let you know as soon as I have anything."

Kim pockets her phone as she sees the tech guy walk into the room, greeting Kevin and nodding towards her.

His name's Dwayne Mitchell. He's in his twenties. Seems almost too young to be working full stop. Almost too cool too. Looks like he should be somewhere glamorous. Appearances can be deceptive, though.

He likely joined tech straight out of college. Thought he'd be working for some blue chip organization. Instead, he's here talking about chips first thing in the morning.

Dwayne sits down at his desk as Kim and Kevin move closer and whirls around in his chair, thumbing back toward the computer.

"So chips, right? That's what the boss told me you wanted to know more about. Not the potato kind either," he grins at his own joke.

Kim and Kevin share an unimpressed glance and look pointedly back at Dwayne, who rolls his eyes but holds his hands up.

"All business, huh? So okay, I heard a little about what happened. Some kind of interference with wire technology and a discovery about some kind of cut or incision on people's bodies, am I right?"

"Yep," Kevin confirms.

"Ok. And I take it you want to find out if something implanted/inserted into a person's body could be enough to disrupt a signal to a wire or if the movies have been lying to us all this whole time?"

"Pretty much," Kim replies.

"Short answer, yeah it's possible. Though I wouldn't think anything like that could work on its own. An RFID chip can interfere with antennas, but I'd expect there to be some kind of backup. Some kind of mechanism that means that if the chip fails, there's something else to cause interference. A barrier to technology working, particularly if the cells are working elsewhere within the building."

"I thought the device our guy has been using was advanced?" Kevin questions.

"One of the new devices that goes in cells, right?" At Kevin and Kim's nods, he continues, "They're brilliant devices. They're better than the old style wires people used to have to use on their bodies too. Harder for people to figure out if there's an issue or for cops or anyone to be made like they used to be, but."

"But?" Kim holds out her hands, shakes her head, "But what?"

"Every technology has its frailty. Some of the finest technology has a fatal flaw waiting to be exposed or hacked."

Kev rubs his face, "So are the chips on their own enough to disrupt everything, our wires and whatever else they've been concerned about enough to place them in people?"

"And are chips versatile enough to be inserted and removed from people in a second and work?" Kim adds.

Dwayne steeples his hands together and rests his elbows on the chair, remains silent for a second as he mulls the questions over.

"Okay, answering these in order. Yes, technically on their own they would be enough but for this to happen repeatedly and for you guys to not get anything. I would imagine there's some kind of backup, some kind of technology blocker in the downstairs area and it being downstairs, that's right, right?"

"Yeah, that's right." Kevin confirms.

"Okay well, the location being downstairs can be an advantage too. Have you ever been underground in some cities in the world, their transportation networks for example, and tried to use your cells? It's hard to get a signal. Everything's getting better, but some places they still don't work at all. That's a factor and they only need to place a few things down there. In the walls or even some kind of device you'd think is for WiFi connections or a router, something like that. Perhaps the chips or whatever it is, they're a smokescreen, something to throw you guys off the scent."

"Ok, and about my question, are they versatile enough or robust enough to be put in people's bodies and work instantly?" Kim presses.

"Yeah, though, can I ask the people with the marks in their skin? Half an inch? Kind of sim card sized?"

Kim nods.

"Ok. So one incision and no signs of disruption to the surrounding skin?"

Kim thinks back to the autopsy reports. Thinks of Jay.

"A reopened cut to the back of the neck but nothing about that much damage to the rest of the surrounding skin, no, why?"

Dwayne's eyebrows shoot skywards, "The back of the neck? Usually it's the hand or the arm, but okay they'd have to do it quickly and without these people knowing and then try to make sure there's no obvious sign of a chip and they put one in each time? Some can do that but I'm guessing they'd need to do it all quickly. Crudely. There's no way there wouldn't be some kind of sign of them messing up, but I'm no expert on that."

"No, it's an excellent point," Kev agrees, "Thanks for all your help Dwayne."

Dwayne shrugs, "This kind of stuff is different from all the usual that's for sure. And I gotta say you could talk to a different tech tomorrow and they may have another opinion. You wanna know my gut instinct?"

"Sure," Kim replies.

"Perhaps the first time, they use a chip. I think it's something else though that's doing the major work. Particularly if the device works upstairs."

Kevin nods at Dwayne and Kim smiles.

"You've been very helpful, Dwayne."

"My job right?" Dwayne grins before he turns his chair back round and faces his computer again signalling for him at least the conversation's closed.

Kevin and Kim walk along the corridor back to the elevator in silence before Kim jabs the down button and sighs.

"So, how the hell do we get in there and downstairs to check for whatever's blocking the signal if it's not just a chip?"

Kevin shakes his head and shrugs, "I got no idea."

\- - - -

"Ok sarge, copy that."

Jay looks up from his position on the couch in his apartment as Hailey ends the call and splays his hands out, "What'd he say?"

Hailey crosses back over to Jay and sits down next to him, picking up the mug that's still half-full of coffee.

"Wants to see us both tomorrow morning."

Jay narrows his eyes, apprehensive, "Oh?"

"He didn't give specifics."

"Okay," Jay responds, no less apprehensive, still there are other things to ask, "Burgess and Kev get anything back from Tech?"

Hailey frowns, "Tech guy said the chip's a possible but likely not the only thing. Some kind of other device doing the bulk of the interference."

"And no way of getting down there with no one knowing so we can't check," Jay shakes his head, dragging a hand through his hair and sinks further into the couch, exhausted.

It isn't sudden. The exhaustion's been coming. He'd slept after a fashion, albeit with constant interruptions and he's still not fully warm. Add to that the fact every other waking thought is Afghanistan.

He's not yet been able to have a shower because every time he'd gone to sleep during the night, the memory of choking on water or the sensation of it. Earlier, when he stood at the sink, he'd stared at the water running. Mesmerized. Terrified.

Hailey had stayed here the whole night, he realizes, though they've not discussed that or the events of last night or the early hours yet. She'd filled him in about the discovery regarding Helen Flynn's car though and it makes sense to him now that he recognized the figure in the alley hours ago if that person was Flynn. It's another 'If' though to add to the rest.

"You ok?" Hailey asks and Jay glances at her, offering a slight nod, "You any warmer at least? How's the cut on your neck?" she adds, standing up for a moment and pushing the material of Jay's hoodie down for a closer look, "Looks like it reopened, is it sore?".

"Not really and yeah I'm warmer," Jay answers, avoiding the general question about his wellbeing he continues, "We could go back to the old-style wire? As long as I play like I'm drugged but I'm not, I can react quickly enough if they reach for my body at all?"

"Even those wires would probably get blocked, Jay," Hailey points out. She's right, that doesn't mean it's any easier to hear, "How was it? Without the drugs, I mean."

Jay looks straight ahead, avoiding her scrutiny or at least making sure he doesn't see her scrutiny,"It was okay although I think Ryan had a freakout, made a colossal noise about never doing it again."

After a beat, Hailey asks, "Ryan or Jay?"

She doesn't miss a trick. Doesn't miss or forget that this was Jay without the drugs, albeit still Jay undercover.

"Definitely Ryan," he meets her eyes for a moment. Long enough to see she's not convinced, and she's right not to be. At that moment, he'd been terrified. Scared of losing control to the point there'd be no coming back, no going any place other than some veterans' psychiatric center for those who damaged forever.

"Gotta hope that they don't take Ryan seriously."

"Yeah. They need someone to make deliveries at least, so that's something."

"True," Hailey agrees when a message alert sounds on her UC phone and she picks it up and shows it to Jay.

"Huh, so Marcie's back?"

"Yeah, I should go soon, you okay? Are you gonna stay away from deliveries today? Seems like that's the pattern. What they want, I mean."

Jay half-heartedly nods. Today it's the last thing he wants. He needs to occupy his brain. Needs to permanently occupy it so he doesn't spend the entire day finding additional things to remind him of Korengal Valley. Of that entire country.

Her hand on his knee pulls him from those thoughts and he smiles at the warmth in her stare. The concern.

"I could come by when the bar closes or I can ask Marce if I can take off early? Bring take out? Or you could stay at my place? We could talk about everything except the things we should?"

Jay's so sure he'll say yes, right until he opens his mouth, and he replies no, which matches with the slight shake of his head.

He imagines the slight frown, the flicker of disappointment in her eyes because it's not there when he looks deeper at her and she stands up, draining the contents of her mug, setting it back down and putting both the cells in her jean pockets.

"See you tomorrow then. Early. 7.30am he wants to see us."

Without another word, she picks up her jacket and walks out the door. 2 minutes later, Jay's own cell buzzes.

Don't hesitate if you change your mind, ok?

The staring contest with his cellphone and a battle of wills Jay endures for the rest of the day and into the evening to not respond at least distracts him from the lack of communication with Barnet and particularly thoughts of Afghanistan.

Till sleep. The most broken night's sleep of all.


	17. Chapter 17

The following day brings a bright December morning. The temperature's still cold though as Hailey blows on her hands, turns the heater higher and picks up the thermos she'd bought yesterday, hugging it close to her.

She'd not been able to get proper sleep and like yesterday, caffeine'll power her. At least yesterday Marcie had been at the bar.

She'd been more talkative, slightly more with it though with no explanation for her absence the previous day.

Voight arrives at the same time as Jay and Hailey gets out of her car, reaching for the scarf on the passenger seat and wrapping it around her neck. She shuts the door and nods towards Voight, who returns her nod and then half-turns to look toward Jay.

Jay, who looks even more tired than Hailey knows she looks. He doesn't appear to have shaved today, his head is bowed as he walks the short distance to join his partner and his boss.

"You both ok?" Voight asks, scrutinizing them long enough that a lie would be uncomfortable under that stare of his.

"A little tired but I'm good, Sarge," Hailey confirms with a smile which Voight returns.

"Sarge," is all Jay says.

Hailey braces herself. For further questioning, for obvious exasperation on the part of Voight and a terse back and forth to prove how not okay Jay likely is right now.

Instead, he nods, though his attention remains fixed on Jay. Jay doesn't flinch. Stares back.

Hailey breaks the silence, "Sarge, did Atwater and Dawson find anything on pod footage? Anything more on the burned-out car? We know it's definitely Flynn, right?"

It takes a moment or two longer for Voight to look away from Jay, but he does and Hailey sees the slight sag in Jay's shoulders as the attention switches away from him.

Voight frowns, shaking his head, "Nothing clear enough to identify them. Whether it's the people doing the dumping or the people doing the letting you know where he was Hailey. The pod footage wasn't great either. Could be the same person from the hospital. Similar clothing at least, but they're hunched slightly so could be someone else."

"Get anything from the church or the alley?" Hailey asks.

"Nope, not yet. Someone broke into the church three nights before Jay was left in that alley, and they broke all the cameras that the church had installed. Someone will fix them tomorrow, apparently. We're pulling pod footage."

"Was there anyone on the side exit this time? And how about the vehicle they took me from the bar in? Ruzek and Olinsky must've taken down the plates." Jay inquires.

"There wasn't and yeah, they did. It's a rental vehicle. Different vehicles both times. We got a warrant for the car rental companies. Expecting it to be Price or Barnet who rented them but who knows."

"Yeah, with this case who knows anything. Every time I think we got this figured out," Jay mimics an explosion with his hands and the sound from his mouth.

It's appropriate timing as right then Voight drops the bombshell, "I think we need to pull you both."

Hailey and Jay exchange a stunned look.

"You're kidding, right?" Jay takes a step nearer to Voight.

"We're in a position, Halstead, where the most important part of your undercover, we have no record of and even if it's not drugs and even if you're avoiding ingesting them. There's something which means we can't see a thing and Jay, I was concerned about you before all this began and now?"

"That's not a reason to pull me now," Jay protests, "We'll get the wire to work or some kind of surveillance and I'm making sure I'm not giving too much away. I'm ok."

Voight raises a skeptical eyebrow, "It's Reform too. The ivory tower is coming down on me and they want results. They're jumpy. Particularly with this unit. I'm not saying we pull you out for good. Just till we know more. Till we find a way to get downstairs in that bar and figure out what's happening."

Jay shakes his head raising his voice, "No. No. This is a onetime only chance, Voight. You pull me and Hailey now. We don't get to go back in. Everything will end. Everything will go cold. We'll never know what happened with Anthony Hunt. They'll rename the bar and in a few months or a year's time, it'll start happening again or worse have been happening the entire time. You gotta let me keep going to the New Year. We're close," quieter then but with no less pleading, he adds, "So close, I can feel it."

Voight grunts but says nothing, looking away from Jay to Hailey and asks her, "What do you think?"

"I think Jay's right. If we close everything down, we're closing any chance we have in this entire case. Look at how many people died before we got involved. We're just waiting for the one shoe to drop. That one domino to tip and the others will follow."

Voight remains silent for a moment, not looking at either of his detectives, "Ok. I'm still not sure about keeping you under, Jay. Are you sure you're still solid? You don't look good."

"That's lack of sleep," Jay deflects.

"Exactly and you're on your own the moment you set foot down those stairs. If you're tired that makes you more vulnerable. Hailey can't do anything for you. We can't even if we're outside."

"They weren't murdered at the bar though."

"Do we know that for certain?" Hailey points out, "Do we even know the entire layout downstairs there yet? Jay, you mentioned a door that Flynn and the others disappeared through one time you were down there. What if they were murdered there and dumped somewhere else?"

"Maybe," Jay concedes, "Taking me out of there though Sarge? Now? We lose any chance we get of getting these guys."

"And we increase the risk of losing you, Halstead, you realize that right?"

"I do."

Jay's tone is certain and when Voight turns to Hailey again, he sees the same certainty. The same knowledge of the risk that's more obviously to Jay but also still potentially for her and she can see the moment Voight backs down.

"You got till the new year. We review everything January 1st," he holds his finger up as though he's admonishing children rather than Jay and Hailey, "If there's any sign it's going south or Hailey, you get concerned about Jay or anyone does. We close everything down. No arguments. Not all cases get solved. Not even the ones that mean more."

He looks only at Jay for the last few words. At Jay, who nods, avoiding his eyes murmuring a quiet, "Copy that."

"Ok, we'll do what I said, We'll recheck the footage we have. We'll check out the rental companies. We'll try to figure out a way to get eyes on you when you're downstairs, Jay."

"And the tox screens should come back in the next few days too," Hailey adds.

"Barnet been in contact with you since yesterday?" Voight asks Jay.

"No. I'll head in for the deliveries today. Is Ruzek still going in in a couple of days?"

Voight starts walking back to his truck but stops, shaking his head, turning back toward his detectives, "Yeah, he's going in, just not as soon as we'd like. The owner's in the hospital. A hernia."

"Wouldn't that be the perfect time for Ruz to go in?" Hailey questions.

"Yeah, it would Karl, Adam's CI said absolutely not. Said he should go in when the guy's out of the hospital. He's the only one who can train Ruzek or any new employees, apparently."

Jay's brow furrows. Setbacks being par for the course for this case.

Voight continues towards his truck and opens the door, "Be careful. Look out for each other," he instructs them both and then climbs into his truck, starts the engine, reverses and drives away.

Hailey lets out a breath. Looking from where Voight's car had been parked to Jay, "You didn't tell him about Ryan's little freakout."

Jay's not paying any attention though, instead he's looking at his cell. The UC cell, she realizes as she walks closer to him.

"Jay?"

He shows her the phone, and she reads the message on screen.

We heard you loud and clear, Foster. Every man has a limit, Take a few days. We'll be in contact sometime.

"Barnet?"

Jay shakes his head, presses the back button on the messages where she sees a separate conversation for Barnet.

"Price?"

"I guess," Jay frowns, his expression pained, "What if I blew this, Hailey? What if it doesn't need Voight shutting down the op and I did all myself?"

"Nothing about that message sounds final, Jay."

"Sometime is vague though but yeah I hope you're right," Jay pockets the cell and leans in slightly to Hailey, "Thanks for backing me up by the way. With Voight."

Hailey shrugs, "I meant it. I feel like we're so close and right now isn't the best time to shut everything down," she shifts her position so she's standing in front of him, and she touches his arm so he'll look at her, "Doesn't mean I'm not concerned, Jay. Doesn't mean I like what I'm seeing, the effect on you that is."

"I'm okay, Hailey."

"Yeah."

Everything about the way she says the single word is obvious she means no. They both know. That she doesn't believe him. This Jay though monosyllabic at times but overall more open with her is one she wants to keep rather than him withholding information from her like he'd withheld from Voight so she doesn't push further. Yet.

Just puts it in the tank, another concern to add to the others. She'll act only when the tank's close to overflowing and it's not quite that time.

"Maybe while I'm out to pasture, I could come to the bar. Go see Marcie. See if I can find Flynn? Anthony?"

"Or you could just relax at home, Jay?" Hailey walks to her car, reaching it in time to see Jay scoff at the suggestion.

She pulls the extra thermos out she'd bought yesterday and walks back to Jay, who smiles genuinely for the first time today. He laughs and walks the few steps to his car, pulling the door open and holding up the original thermos. The start of all this. He rejoins her.

"I can't believe you bought another thermos, Hailey."

Hailey reddens, "Not just 1."

"You could've just asked for it back."

"Yeah but I figured you'd be heading straight out for deliveries. I realize sleep's a touchy subject so I figured plenty of caffeine, problem solved."

"Back at ya," Jay comments and they share a smile before Hailey looks at her watch and reluctantly she indicates toward her car.

"I should go, have a shower and feel a little more human. I could stop by after closing or you could to mine too? Could give you the spare key?"

"Spare key already? I barely know you, Hailey," he teases.

"Ok, on that note, I'm leaving," she laughs, shaking her head as she reaches her car again and grows more serious again, "Be careful, Jay and keep in touch."

"You too, Hailey."

\- - - -

Voight walks back through the front entrance into the 21st, deep in thought though nodding towards Trudy who's on the phone as he walks toward the stairs.

"Hank!"

He turns around, sees Trudy put the phone down, gesturing him closer.

"Patrol had a call in the early hours of yesterday during the night before I came in. I was just going through the lists. They went to med with a victim. Apparent home invasion. I recognized the name: Amelia Fischer."

Trudy hands a sheet of paper over to him, which he scans quickly.

"Thought you'd be interested. They're back there now, taking a statement."

Voight smiles grimly reaching the same apparent conclusion Trudy had, "Yeah, thanks Trudy."

Ten minutes later and Voight's in the bullpen, everyone present.

"I thought Amelia said she would stay with family?" Al says, looking at Kim and Antonio.

"That's what she told us. Maybe she and the kids came back. Thought we wouldn't be interested anymore," Kim replies.

"I want you both at Med," Voight instructs Kim and Antonio, "I want to know if this was a burglary gone wrong or she was involved with Barnet, wasn't she? See if Peter Barnet is up to his old tricks again."

"Yeah, he was and got it," Antonio confirms, looking at Kim who grabs her jacket and they walk down the stairs together.

"Everyone else keep checking the pod footage. Check if we can get any near to where Amelia Fischer lives too for the early hours of yesterday and see if we can get any further with the rental companies today."

"Sarge," Kev acknowledges, and just like that the noise in the bullpen quiets to a sound of only the tapping of keyboards and urgent voices to each other and on their phones.

\- - - -

"How is she, doc?" Antonio asks the female doctor as she shows them to the room where Amelia Fischer's in.

"Lucky compared to how it could've turned out. Mild concussion. Broken nose. She has a broken ankle and wrist too. Some broken ribs too. She's recovering, but still fragile. She should be able to go home in a few," The doctor replies as they pause by the door.

"That's lucky?" queries Kim raising her eyebrows before she adds, "Also was this consistent with something you'd see for a home invasion or something else?"

"Feels like you're implying something else? Interrupted home invasions can cause all kinds of injuries. I've seen it, heard about it. There could be a multitude of causes. That's your job to investigate. My job to help her get better."

With that the doctor points towards Amelia and Kim observes one of the uniformed guys who's standing by the bed, taking notes and nodding as Amelia speaks.

"Hey Amelia," Kim greets the woman in the bed who looks away from the officer and towards her and Antonio and frowns.

Antonio gestures to the officer to talk him away from the room and the man follows him to the corridor, leaving Kim alone with Amelia.

"How are you, Amelia?"

"How do you think I am, Officer?" Her voice is lower, her breaths sharp, short, and her face is gray from the pain and discomfort she must be feeling.

"I thought you were staying with family?"

"Obviously not anymore, I came back. Listen, the uniformed guy has already taken my statement of what happened. Why are you here?"

Kim continues undeterred, "Are your kids back with you or are they still with family?"

"They're with family," Amelia answers.

"So why'd'you come back?"

"To check on the house. Make sure everything was all okay," Amelia's fingers worry at the edge of the blanket.

"What'd they take?"

"What do you mean?"

"If this was a home invasion/burglary, did they take anything or say what they wanted?"

Amelia shakes her head and whispers, "I don't know."

Kim looks toward the corridor, sees Antonio nod to the officer and rejoin her, looking at Amelia and asking, "Amelia, did you come back to see someone?"

Sometimes it's experience that teaches you to look past initial reactions. To see through the lies a person tells whatever their motive. Sometimes it's obvious like now as Amelia's fingers tighten on the edge of the blanket and her knuckles whiten.

Kim moves closer, "This wasn't a burglary gone wrong was it, Amelia?"

"No, no, you're wrong, it was. I haven't seen Peter in weeks. Peter's not capable of this," she looks at Antonio and Kim, her head shaking as and her eyes lowering as they fill with moisture and she realizes her mistake, "It wasn't Pete. He's good. It was a burglar."

It's more like she's convincing herself than them and she cries softly.

"Amelia, I didn't say Peter's name, but that's okay sometimes we trust the wrong people and you've been through a lot with Eddie dying and looking after the kids."

The tears get stronger and that's when the doctor comes back in.

"It's okay Amelia, we'll give you some meds and these officers will leave now. If they have to, they'll come back when you're stronger or home, right officers?" The doctor says pointedly to Kim and Antonio.

"Right, doc," Kim agrees, and she follows Antonio towards the doorway but stops and turns, pulling out a card and leaving it on the unit next to the bed, "In case you need to talk Amelia, that's my number. Just call anytime, okay?"

Kim nods towards the doctor and joins Antonio in the corridor.

"Those injuries have got Peter Barnet written all over them."

"Yeah," Antonio agrees, "And the officer I was speaking to said that when they got called to the house, neighbors said they'd heard shouting for over an hour before that and though the house was in a mess. No sign of a break-in, a piece of the bannisters was missing and on the floor, and there was blood at the bottom of the stairs."

"Kayleigh Alexander never called Upton back yet did she?"

"No. Maybe we should pay her another visit now Hailey's undercover. Tell her he may have done it again?"

"Before Amelia admits that's the real reason for her injuries? That's risky."

"I guess but it's also risky her going home if Barnet's still around."

They walk toward the elevator together but Antonio stops without warning, "Oh yeah, and the time the neighbors heard the shouting begin? That timing works with Olinsky and Ruzek seeing the vehicle leave the bar and Hailey receiving the message to get Jay."

"Taking his anger and frustration out on a woman again?"

"Seems like it."

"We should go back and see if the guys got any footage from outside the house and if anything else has shown up. Maybe Voight'll agree to us talking to Kayleigh again."

"Maybe," Antonio agrees as they step into the elevator together, now deep in thought.

Two minutes later and they're at the entrance about to leave when they hear their names being called and look around to see the source.

Will Halstead.

"Hey, I heard you were here, and I wanted to ask if my brother's okay?"

Antonio narrows his eyes, "He's not been in contact?"

"If you can call one worded text messages several weeks ago in contact, then I guess he has but aside from that I don't know how he is. I was hoping you could reassure me at least?"

He looks hopefully from Kim to Antonio.

"He's okay, Will."

Will swallows, "Okay, I get it. I get you can't say much more, right? And if he wasn't okay, I'd know. I guess I figured it'd be all over by now. He'd be back in time to avoid seeing our dad at Christmas. Guess not."

Kim smiles sympathetically, "We'll let him know you were asking. If he can call, I'm sure he will."

Will nods, looking away from them, "Yeah. Yeah. I know you can't say more. Just make sure you tell him to hurry. I miss him. He's the only pain in the ass brother I got and I only got so much patience with dad."

His beeper sounds, and he looks almost relieved as he rubs at his face and looks back in their direction, muttering, "Thanks guys." He turns away back toward the ED, running a hand through his hair, his head slumped before he appears to take a breath and straightens as he disappears through the sliding doors.

\- - - -

Days pass with no word from Barnet or Price for Jay. The Tuesday Ruzek had been due to go in comes and goes.

Jay obeys the instruction to stay away and keep quiet until Thursday. Tired of running things over in his mind.

Weary of hearing how pod footage reveals certain things, but never quite enough. Ideas come and go in his mind of how to overcome the wire not working.

Confirmation of the rental companies' records matching Price and Barnet's details isn't a surprise, but at least there's not a contradiction for once.

He sleeps in ten-minute spells here and there. Sometimes the time stretches to an hour. Every time, he wakes to the aftermath of a terrible dream.

Every time, there's a different face. Tabssum. Babur. Morgan. The guys in his unit. Dead or alive. His torturers from Afghanistan. Hell, even Keyes appears once or twice. There are new faces too.

Price and Barnet.

That's when Jay's had enough and that's when he messages Hailey to check if Barnet's in. He does it as Ryan via the UC cell asking if he's around so he can talk to him about work. He figures Ryan or anyone in his position would do the same because isn't that the whole point of Price and Barnet's game? To force these men into a position of reliance on them so they can coerce them to do something/anything they tell them to do.

Yeah, he is. Be careful.

He understands the thinly veiled concern. He's been told about the attack on Amelia Fischer, though she's still mute on the subject. Still claiming burglary, though Robbery/Homicide have drawn a blank. Until she says anything, Voight's hedging with seeing Kayleigh Alexander again unless she approaches Hailey.

Thing is, he needs to do something before everything all falls away, anyway. The case, maybe his sanity too.

Yesterday, Dr Kravitz had contacted him with confirmation of GHB, albeit tiny levels in his system from when he'd been taken to the hospital by the unidentified person. It explains a lot and at least he knows. It's still horrific though.

How bad had things been for all the others and they hadn't had the backup of being a cop? All the knowledge which isn't enough but still more than they had.

He thinks these thoughts as he drives to the bar. Thinking back to the first days of undercover here.

Jay regards everything differently now and as he opens the door, sees the Christmas tree in the corner, dressed with gaudy lights and several way past their best baubles, the bar holds a clear air of danger now, not friendly or comforting.

If it ever had been like that.

Hailey greets him with a smile, "Hey Ryan, it's been a while."

Marcie looks up then and appears genuinely surprised to see him, maybe also a little confused too, but she regains her composure and smiles, moving to Hailey's side.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes? You growing the wild-man look again, honey?" she gestures toward his facial hair that's growing out.

Jay gets another immediate flashback to the earliest days here. Back to the time when he thought Marcie was unwitting in all this and entirely unaware. He still does mostly except he's acutely aware he knows nowhere near enough.

He shrugs, "Using a razor's overrated, Marce."

She smiles though it never reaches her eyes and Jay's well aware that's a regular occurrence around here and shouldn't be a judgement of guilt particularly because he and Hailey are as guilty as anyone else here for pretending all's fine when it's not.

He looks between Hailey and Marcie, "He here?"

"Yeah, he's checking stock," Hailey confirms as Marcie narrows her eyes and looks ready to speak but Jay doesn't allow it, just pats the top of the bar and walks toward the side door.

\- - - -

"This what they call stocktaking these days," Jay quips as he opens the door without knocking and sees Barnet, sitting on the chair, with the TV hooked up now and playing without sound, a table in front of him and a laptop which he slams shut before whirling around and standing up.

"Jesus, Foster. No one ever taught you how to knock?"

"What were you watching that made you so jumpy?" Jay asks in a light tone as he takes in Barnet's appearance, his eyes lingering on the man's knuckles. Reddened and cracked.

All the confirmation they need. Could just be a coincidence, but no.

"Didn't expect to see you back here. You freaked out so bad last time. I was looking around for replacements."

Jay looks down as he leans against the door, "It was hard. And you know. I think I should be out, but at the same time it's made more sense of my past. It's made my nightmares realer than ever. Things I'd put away, pushed down and now they're back and I feel more alive than ever. More aware than ever, so if you'll let me I want in again."

It's all such total bullshit and Jay's taking an enormous risk in saying it because nothing is ever gained by the clarity and flashbacks Jay's endured and that he suspects the others did too.

Jay's still unsure that even if Voight had pulled everything at the weekend, he'd get out out of this unscathed mentally. He's certain he'll need therapy or instead revert to avoidance and postpone the damage it's caused him till an unknown date when it'll blow up in his face.

He wonders how and if Barnet could ever buy his lies as them embarking on all this in the first place must mean they'd have some idea how damaging it is.

Barnet doesn't respond immediately and when he approaches Jay and lifts his hand to his face. Could easily be to strike him, but instead he cups Jay's cheek gently and smiles before he slaps his shoulder.

"Well, I gotta talk to the boss but we do need you for deliveries, Ryan and yeah I agree we're making significant progress, we can't stop now."

"Unlike Anthony, I won't run out on you, sir."

Barnet tenses and his grip on Jay's shoulder is tighter for a moment. Jay crosses his fingers mentally that this won't backfire and he meets Barnet's stare. Unflinching.

The other man's laugh still would never be described as comforting, but at least the grip on Jay's shoulder loosens and he wags his finger at him.

"You reckon you're funny, you're not, but I admire your balls, kid. Also, well remembered about the respect. Okay, I'll talk to Price, we'll bring you back in. Start everything off again sometime next week."

Jay exhales. Relieved. Not just as Ryan either. As Jay, the undercover cop who's desperate to understand all this, solve it, arrest them and make sure they never see the light of day again.

"Thank you, sir. You won't regret this."

"I'll be the judge of that, Foster."

Jay gives him an accepting nod and turns toward the door handle to open it but a hand whirls him back around and Barnet's in his face again, pointing beyond the closed door.

"You ever gonna make a move on our Paula? Doesn't matter if you are but I'd suggest you do it soon cause I'm going to. She seems different. I like that. I like challenges."

Jay stays impassive, thinks fast, "Yeah, we're spending the day together on Saturday. Was hoping Marcie could run the bar then just so we can have some alone time."

"Well, may the best man win eh Foster. Just don't ruin her life before I have time to, okay?"

Jay finds it hard to echo Barnet's laugh, responding instead with a half-smile that he hopes doesn't reflect his disgust, discomfort or concern.

He leaves the room without another word and keeps his fingers crossed the whole way back to the bar that Marcie will say yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you'd like to know. The date in the story for where we just left Jay is December 7th, 2017.


	18. Chapter 18

Marcie says yes and more importantly, so does Hailey. And only on the condition, Jay comes to her apartment. More hospitable, less depressing. Less claustrophobic than the same four walls Jay's had to live in for the past days.

When Jay arrives, the bags under his eyes seem more pronounced. The facial hair is longer. He looks exhausted.

She's glad she insisted on him coming over. She's also glad she made the effort to buy extra food. That she'd been to the Greek supermarket first thing to buy loukoumades. As many as she'd bought for her first day in the unit, but this time to be eaten by only the 2 of them.

She's prepared Moussaka for the main course, feta cheese salad for the starter and fruit salad for dessert with the loukoumades for snacking.

Her mom would be proud and she'd considered calling her earlier, but the thought of speaking or even hearing him had stopped her.

Jay here's now so any inclination to call gets forgotten. She urges him to sit down.

"You look how I feel, Jay."

"Amazing?" Jay quips and Hailey shakes her head.

"Not quite the word I was looking for. You want a drink? I got Greek wine. I got water. I got soda, I've got whiskey, and I got plain old coffee."

"Whatever you're having."

Hailey makes a face, "That's not helpful, Jay, but okay, I say wine even though it is only 3pm and I figured we'd eat a little later?"

"Works for me," Jay agrees, watching as she pours the wine and muttering a thank you as she hands him a full glass.

"Ok well, I hope you like red wine, this is a Boutari Agiorgitiko from 2016."

"We're going full Greek?"

"Naï," she replies with a smile which only widens at Jay's expression of mild confusion, "Naï means Yes in Greek."

Jay repeats the single word back to her, pronunciation perfect and she nods impressed at him.

"Hailey, it's one word," he reasons.

"That's true," she replies, holding her own almost full glass now before placing the glass and the bottle on the table in front of them.

She sits next to him on the couch and shuts her eyes, relieved not to have to be at the bar tonight and to Marcie, to Barnet, they're anything but themselves. They're Ryan and Paula.

Here and now though, they're Jay and Hailey without the immediate aftermath of what's happened some of the previous times Jay's been here.

"Barnet give you any crap yesterday?" Jay asks. He'd relayed the conversation he and the other man had had on Thursday.

"No, he was sitting at the end of the bar staring at one stage but Marcie was acting up and I glared in his direction several times so he gave up."

"Be careful," Jay warns, his eyes concerned as she turns to him.

"I can handle myself, Jay, it's fine. Dealt with much worse than him. Much worse."

"Oh?"

Hailey shakes her head, "Can we make a deal? No more talk of this case or any case. At least till we've finished the end of this glass?"

Jay makes a face, tilting his head to one side, "Yeah, okay. I like the sound of that. This goes both ways though, right?"

"Right," Hailey agrees, lifting her glass, "So, ya mas? Means 'to our health'"

"Ya mas, Hailey," Jay lifts his glass without hesitation clinking it against Hailey's and taking a sip, his eyes widening as he does and nodding approvingly as he swallows, "That's excellent wine."

"Yeah. Kudos to the guy in the grocery store, he recommended it," she takes another sip and settles back into the couch.

Enjoying the silence. A moment to breathe. Surprised at how comfortable it feels and at how comfortable she feels. She looks subtly across at Jay. The way he's at first pursing his lips, his eyes roving the small apartment. Absorbing the surroundings properly. Still fighting the urge to relax, she knows.

It seems to get easier as he takes another sip, and another till he breaks the silence.

"So, what do we talk about if we're not talking about the case? I almost forgot what it was like to think of anything else," His smile is kind of sad, rueful, tinged with regret.

\- - - -

Luckily for them both, Hailey's full of ideas. Full of small talk she's gathered and used over the years to fill interminable nights of stakeouts. Questions to fill the void and replace the urge to dwell on what scares you the most. Questions that can mean she could listen to others without needing to tell her stories as long as someone else is telling them, she's content.

"What's the first thing you'll do when we solve this case? When you're no longer undercover, that is. If money was no object, where would you vacation? Best gift you've ever received? Most impulsive thing you've ever done? How about those for starters?"

Jay arches an amused eyebrow, "Ok, well I did ask. Well, my turn to ask first, so where would you go if money was no object?"

"Ikaria," Hailey replies without hesitation, "It's amazing, Jay. A small island in Greece. Has the highest population of healthy people over the age of ninety. The most common type of work out there is manual labor. Mountain hiking. The healthiest food. Crime rate is almost zero. Greek coffee, mountain tea. Imagine being able to go for a run in the morning and all you can see for miles is the sea? Only trouble is I think if I went I'd struggle to come home."

"We could all come and visit you. Set up the Intelligence unit, Ikaria style."

"There'd be nothing at all to occupy us."

"Exactly!"

Hailey looks at Jay, searching for a sign he's joking. He's playing along or teasing her. There's nothing obvious. "You'd get bored."

"Maybe that's not the worst thing in the world. Perhaps I could get used to fruit picking and running along a mountain edge. People not being out to get you."

"Definitely not the worst thing in the world, Jay," she agrees, "Ok, so my turn, and that same question to you."

Jay sips at the wine, tapping at the glass rhythmically as he considers his answer.

"You know for a little while I thought about saving all my salary and in a few years after we'd saved up enough, we'd go to somewhere in the Indian Ocean or the Pacific, stay in one of those huts in the middle of the ocean. I could fish all day or swim all day and we'd sit under the stars at night eating the finest cuisine."

He frowns, "Anyway, that's not happening anymore so Wisconsin for weekends but money no object? I like your island. Don't worry though, I'd make sure I'd stay at the other side of it and we'd wave at each other on the street and be all 'Oh that was someone I knew from my old life before all this sun and this warmth and this feeling of freedom'."

He stops, self-conscious immediately, "You said a vacation though right so maybe the Bahamas."

"You can stay on my island, Jay, and you know what meeting up every so often would be good," Hailey assures him with a smile.

"Really?"

"Really. So, ok while I prepare the salad, ask me the next question."

"Salad? Hailey, We're in December, and you said we'd eat later."

"Yeah, so all the more reason to eat your veggies and I'm Greek, I love food and entertaining and I'm not doing that right now so." Hailey stands up and gestures toward the kitchen area.

"Sometimes, you sound just like my mom, Hailey, and you're doing fine with the entertainment. All I need is potato chips or anything you can find that's small to go with the wine?"

Hailey rolls her eyes but picks up the box from the counter and opens it, holding it out to Jay before setting the box down on the table, "Well, I got these? Remember them from my first day? The salad is a Feta cheese salad, so not even that healthy but okay, we can say screw it and drink wine and eat these till we're ready to have the Moussaka."

"That or we can just eat these till we run out and don't even care about soaking up the alcohol by that point?" Jay reaches into the box and holds one, staring at it, "And while we're at it, we can think of how much has changed since your first day."

He shakes his head, "Or not, terrible idea of mine," dismissing that thought process for now and bites into the first one, shutting his eyes as he tastes the sweet treat and opens them, nodding approvingly.

"Great accompaniment to the wine, Hailey."

Hailey hands him a paper towel, placing several more on the table underneath the box, before she sits on the couch again, one leg under the other, then grabs a paper towel which she sets on her lap.

"You're a Philistine but okay, now ask me another question, Jay."

"Ok," he taps his chin, "Your favorite Christmas?"

Hailey winces internally. It's easy to answer though because there weren't so many good ones before things all fell apart.

"I'm the middle child," she begins, "It wasn't as bad as it could have been to be the middle one because I was the only girl. My younger brother was taller than me by the time he was twelve too, I was fourteen. Anyway, the best Christmas was when we were all old enough to get excited about it. All of us at school and dad's diner was doing well. Well enough that I got a bike for Christmas. A little purple bike with a bell on it," Hailey smiles at the memory.

"You know we all cycled like crazy kids down the sidewalks and in the park through snow storms. So excited that we had bikes. Mom and Dad walking behind us, holding hands. Then that Christmas, we ate for days. Christmas would go on forever and any of the unused food from the diner which dad never used to mind us eating in those days? We'd all crowd around the tv and and all I remember is laughing," she glances at Jay, self-conscious suddenly, "Yeah, so that was my favorite Christmas. How about you?"

Jay peers at her over his wine glass, "Will you see them this Christmas? Or would you have done if we weren't in the middle of this case? On Thanksgiving, you seemed reluctant to call?"

Hailey rubs at her jeans, at a non-existent stain focused only on avoiding Jay's gaze and shrugs, "Families are complicated. I imagine we'll talk. Seeing them? Eh. Hopefully, my brothers at some point and if mom's there, great. Anyway, don't think i didn't notice the deflection, Jay, what about you?

"Any Christmas before 4pm. After 4pm is when every Christmas would become the worst Christmas because dad would always have had too much alcohol by that point and spend the rest of the day yelling at mom but also us for breathing."

"That bad?"

Jay doesn't answer the question, just gives a wry smile and holds up a hand, "Actually, you know my favorite Christmas? Mom's last one. The two of us. Listening to the corniest songs. Watching Home Alone. Miracle on 34th Street. It was enough that I was there. With her. Just the two of us and it was special. Didn't need presents, no point in them for mom anyway, so all we did was talk."

"I'm sorry you lost her."

"Only physically. As in losing her, I mean. She's always in my head. Telling me off while I ignore that voice. I think she'd be happy that Will and I are on better terms at least. About the only thing she'd be happy with, though."

Jay drains the glass, an involuntary shudder running through him, and fixes a smile toward Hailey as he picks up the bottle and tops up Hailey's glass and fills his own.

"Maybe we should talk about the case?" he suggests.

"And miss out on the most important question, Jay? Oh no. So, the most impulsive thing or embarrassing thing you've ever done?"

Jay waves his finger and shakes his head, "No way Hailey, not till I've had at least 2 more of these," he points the same finger to the glass he's holding with his other hand.

"Now I'm intrigued and there's no way I'm gonna feed you Moussaka until you 'fess up."

"Doesn't stop you from telling me your most embarrassing or impulsive moment."

"Well duh, that's easy. When I made Platt tip the drink all over herself would be the one."

Jay snorts, "Oh yeah, that was pretty embarrassing, but I already knew that so you're gonna have to do better."

Hailey gives him a look, "I will if you will."

"Drink up then Hailey," Jay challenges watching with his mouth falling open a little more and more as Hailey picks up the glass and drains it then pours herself another full one, "Well okay then."

\- - - -

Not so long ago, silences between Hailey and Jay would've been stilted. Awkward. Each lost in memories, some more recent than others. Painful memories.

Partnerships are often accidental in their world. Imperfect. Two people doing the same job with personalities so different. Too different. Add to that fences or walls put up clumsily, mostly by hand. As a way of protecting themselves: what hurt them in the first place. Add to that every piece of damage that made them who they are today, that led them to the time they become partners.

It's hard to believe they're the same 2 people and maybe that's all part of it because Jay knows he's not the same. Even if this undercover and this case hadn't existed. Even if that one day, he'd slept through so life had just carried on without Brian's place or any awareness of it.

Everything changed this year. Just like Afghanistan had changed him. This year has too. Starting with Erin. Then a small child who won't get to see Christmas this year because of him, accidental or not.

It's all fine to talk about favorite Christmases till his mind lingers on Morgan and how even his over thirty years of not so great ones Morgan's family would give anything to experience if it meant she was still here.

What was he thinking about? Oh yeah, the silence between him and Hailey now.

It's comfortable. Comfortable despite what's left unsaid. Easy too because there's trust now where there once was resentment on his part at least.

The words pour out of him before he can stop them.

"They were just kids. A little boy and his younger sister. Not as though they were the first and they weren't even the last."

"Tabssum and Babur?" Hailey asks quietly.

It's okay, Jay tells himself. He can trust her.

"Yeah," he breathes, "I'll always remember the soccer jersey he wore. Red, one main shade but after there were different shades because of the injuries, but the color was red before as well. She barely had a scratch. They're the ones I see sometimes."

_All the time, each time I close my eyes, goes unsaid._

"At least Morgan had a chance. Someone tried to save her. They didn't even get that chance. I don't even know if their parents saw them again. Got the chance to kiss them before they buried them."

He feels her draw closer to him, hears her short exhale and watches her hand squeeze his own. It comforts him like she's got magic powers to soothe him.

"Thank you for telling me."

"Thank you for listening," he shuts his eyes and sees them, those two children. Feels his eyes fill with tears and blinks them away or tries to.

Hears her exhale once again and hears her talk, not letting go of his hand.

"I had an undercover, which was bad. Correction: I've had two bad ones. This one, though. It cost a lot. Almost too much."

"The one you mentioned before?" Jay asks.

"Yeah. That one. The offender, he was a bastard. Almost took my sanity. Did take the guy I was undercover with," the exhale is shakier this time, "We got him in the end. It just wasn't as satisfying as it could've been. Would've been better if I could have shot him."

"And the guy you were undercover with?"

She smiles, genuine, warm, wistful, "Garrett. He was such a great cop. Even better undercover. Booth was ruthless though, and he never missed an opportunity."

"You and Garrett?"

Hailey gently removes her hand, sweeping it through her hair and looks away. They both know what Jay's implying, "We were undercover, Jay."

There are unspoken words, Jay thinks. On both their parts, probably in answer to that. As he watches her now, sees vulnerability he's not seen in her before. He knows what she means. Gets it. He could ask, pursue and ask directly. He knows the answer already, though.

Instead, his hand searches for hers this time, finding it and even though there's a slight amount of resistance. It's minimal, and she accepts his touch looking back toward him, and he recognizes the look in her eyes. Doesn't comment on the moisture or the stray tear that he could brush at. He senses that would be one step too far though.

He squeezes her hand. A gentle squeeze. Watching her as she releases a breath that's less fragile. Sees her settle into the couch, her other hand holding the glass now.

"Thanks Jay."

"Thanks Hailey."

They say it at the same time. The surprise is that he's not even surprised.

\- - - -

Hours pass. The drink flows and the conversation becomes lighter.

The silences are shorter. Punctuated with contented laughter. Microwaving the moussaka is sacrilege to those in Greektown not so far away from here, but it's edible and at least means it absorbs some alcohol.

"Yeah, so when taser certification time comes again, just be very hopeful we don't get the same guy."

Hailey snort giggles again and like the last time a few minutes ago, Jay laughs too, amused and somewhat endeared by the sound.

"I kinda want it to happen so I can see your faces. I can picture it all, but the reality would be so much better."

"I was starting to like you Hailey, don't push it."

She's on the whiskey now, though with a glass of water before she'd started, Jay's nursing the glass of wine that's the last one from the last bottle she'd bought from the Greek supermarket.

Out of nowhere, he remembers the unanswered question from earlier. Before all the wine and spirits.

"Okay, wipe that smile off your face, Hailey Upton. So, the most impulsive thing or embarrassing thing you've ever done. Go."

Her smile is smug, "Easy. Giving up robbery/homicide to come to Intelligence."

Jay scoffs, "That's almost as bad an answer as the Platt one. You're a terrible secret teller."

"Wow. Tough crowd. Okay, all right. Challenge accepted. First night out as a drinker, Hailey Ann Upton. Sobbing her heart out at not being allowed into a pizza place and having to be escorted home because back then I could tolerate a pitiful amount of alcohol."

Jay makes an unimpressed sound, "That's it? Oh man, you've lived a boring life."

"Well okay, Mr Jay Super Interesting and wow look at the life I've lived Halstead, spill yours then."

"How about getting married on the spur of the moment in Vegas?"

Jay swears he can almost hear Hailey's jaw drop.

"You did what?"

"Oh and technically, we're still married though before all this started, things were progressing at last toward me becoming a divorcee."

Hailey does a double take and Jay laughs, "You're giving me all the comedic reactions right now, Hailey, but actually it was pretty sad. We were very drunk. After a funeral and when in Vegas, right?"

"And there I was believing you were sensible."

"Hey," Jay protests, "I am. Both pf us in a terrible place and by that I don't mean the wedding chapel in Vegas. We just were. We liked each other. Felt logical. A logical joke. Back then each day passed in a blur, it was a little fragment of light amongst all the crap."

"Okay, well you win, Jay. You win." Hailey tries to lighten the mood that's turned darker.

It doesn't work.

Jay frowns, "Well, no, not really. Divorce costs money and oh god," he breathes, "Erin didn't see the funny side. At all. It, erm, it didn't help you know with," he throws a hand up, dropping it hard on his leg, "With anything. I tried patching things up. That night in the bar, I was going to propose. Even though I knew. I think I knew. I just never imagined it would end like that."

He shakes his head, "I never think."

Her hand finds his again, and he looks down toward it. Accepts the touch until he doesn't and he stands up, rubs at his face and shakes his head.

"I should go. You got the bar tomorrow and-."

"Jay, it's not that late. It's cold as hell out and we've still got a bunch of loukoumades to eat and there's no way I'm eating them all myself or throwing them away."

He turns away and stares out the window, still shaking his head and decision made, he goes to pick up his jacket.

Her hand again stops him, she's by his side taking the jacket from him and throwing it toward the couch, then she's in front of him, looking up, smiling. Warm and familiar.

"Stay. We don't have to talk. We can listen to music. We've not even talked about what music you like or what I like. Doesn't matter what we do. Just stay."

Jay's history is littered with impulsive moments and apparently so's his present now too as he lowers his mouth towards hers and he watches in what feels like slow motion as he thinks she stands on tiptoes and her mouth is so close to his. They're so close and maybe this would be okay?

_We were undercover, Jay._

That could apply to them too, right? Just something to further Ryan and Paula. Something to throw Barnet off from pursuing her.

He steps backward though even though he thinks his heart is yelling 'What d'you do that for?" His head will thank him though. If not tonight, tomorrow.

"It's not right. Not fair and not okay. We may be years later, but I'm not so far removed from Vegas, mentally at least am I, Hailey? Every flashback. Every time I'm in that cellar, I'm there again. And if we did this, Hailey. It smells of rebound, even if this felt right for tonight. I don't want to jeopardize a thing."

The case he means, the case. He does.

"Me either, Jay. Me either. You're right. You'll stay though? Please stay even if we stay up all night talking nonsense or not talking at all."

Jay doesn't nod. He doesn't say yes. He thinks there's an unspoken 'Stay because I don't want to be alone' and what would be an instinctive response of of 'me too Hailey' goes unsaid too even though he needs this as much as her. To not be alone.

He's sure she knows anyway as her lips brush against his own and her fingertips graze lightly against his and he hears her say.

"I'll make some coffee."

He turns his head, and nods even though she's looking away now, watching her as he tells himself over and over.

_We're undercover. That's all this is._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write so much more for this chapter but also keen to avoid making it unrealistic in terms of them both. While they know more about each other and it's no longer arms length, they like each other. They know that now, but they're undercover, it's complicated. Blah blah.
> 
> We're getting to the nitty gritty soon. Some questions may start to be answered, some more may get thrown up and that very first scene? We're not a million miles away


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts with a little time jump of just under a week but aside from a day or two here or there there won't be time jumps for the next few chapters also for the next few chapters, I've put dates in and the next chapter (for reasons) and so when we move onto new days and it's clearer if we skip a day. (i hope)
> 
> Brace yourselves x

**Friday December 15th 2017**

"So anything more conclusive on the pod footage from Amelia Fischer's place?" Hailey asks Antonio as he pulls on a beanie as the snow falls around them.

"Nothing conclusive. We saw vehicles arriving. We saw people leaving vehicles and we've reviewed from much earlier in the day and we saw a person who could be Peter Barnet but nothing definite."

"And Amelia? She's said anything more?"

Antonio shakes his head, "No. Her family took her back to be with them yesterday so she can recover. Still claims it was a robbery."

"With nothing taken."

"Yeah."

Hailey shakes her head, dejected. Antonio makes a sound of agreement, then schools his face to a look of concern.

"I get you. We all do. It's frustrating. How are you holding up? Seen Barnet?"

"I'm okay and Barnet. Yeah, I saw him. He's been hanging around the bar a little more, but nothing unusual so far. Still got knuckles that look like they saw a fight. But every time I approached him: got him a drink, he'd drop his hands out of sight."

"He's smart."

"Yeah. At least they called Jay back for deliveries. Was wondering if they were giving up on Ryan, though no word on any of the bad stuff starting again yet."

"That's something at least. How's he doing?"

"He's good. Whether he admits it or not, he needed the break. Recharge himself mentally for when it starts again because Im sure it will. Not saying he's 100 percent fine, but he's better."

"That's good. Voight's concerned. We all are. And we still need to get into that cellar area. We were tossing around a few ideas yesterday. Thinking of maybe raiding the place. Make it look like a robbery."

Hailey frowns, "And Brian's place is the first target? No, that won't work. They'll smell something and set up someplace else."

"True, but what other choice do we have?"

"I have the keys. I can go in a little earlier one day."

"I dunno Hailey, that's risky."

"And the other way isn't? At least for me there's a reason, and I can explain it easily enough."

Antonio casts a skeptical glance her way but nods slightly, "Just be careful if you do it okay? And let me check with Voight first. We go in. At least we got safety in numbers."

"You go in and they find nothing taken or if they have any form of surveillance that we don't know about. Everything's off the table." Hailey points out, "Anyway, hopefully we get something when Adam goes in."

"Yeah, that's true. Monday he goes in."

"We could get a Christmas miracle?"

Antonio lets out a slight laugh, "An optimist, that's why you're good, Hailey."

"Good or misguided,"

"Or both? Look, be safe and if you end up going down in the cellar, don't take stupid risks."

Hailey mock salutes and Antonio shakes his head with a grin and waves before turning away toward his car as Hailey does the same, sliding into the driver's seat and picks up her cell, smiling as she sees the 'Good morning' message from Jay.

Jay.

It could have been awkward in the days that have passed since the weekend. Since the moment so close to intimacy.

Instead, it's easier. Somehow it's like they've cleared a barrier. Just by talking. Just by knowing that bit more about each other.

If the undercover ended tomorrow, Hailey knows the drill. The change when you go back to how it used to be. Hailey thinks maybe they could do it. Things are different anyway now. It's not how it used to be for them. Maybe friends isn't too big of a reach and that's a good place to start.

"Start what, Hailey?" her brain unhelpfully asks.

She ignores it. For now, she replies to the text, not hesitating with the reply like she would've done before.

 _That's_ something.

\- - - -

Sleep is confusing for Jay. He manages more, though it's always interrupted. It's ninety-per-cent awful stuff. The rest?

It's confusing. Its old memories mixed in with new. Additional people, though if he's being honest, there's only 1 person.

When Erin left, he dreamt once or twice about her. Dreamt of a knock on his door in the middle of the night and he'd know that knock anywhere. He'd practically ran to open it and she'd be there but only to turn away, her hand lifting to wave and then she'd disappear to nothing.

Jay's read about people who lose people and their loved ones would talk of seeing them one last time. Closure.

Erin's doing good, or better. He doesn't need anyone to tell him that. He knows. Fresh starts can do wonders.

He gets why he had _those_ dreams. He's just confused about why he dreams about someone that's very much in his life, but only as his work partner. Someone he's merely undercover on the same case with.

Though he's never been this deep before, so how could he know if it's normal? He knows it heightens his senses. Knows he's on edge. That he's vulnerable. If Hailey's anything to go by, if what she doesn't tell him or admit but which speaks volumes when she spoke about Garrett is anything to go by, then none of these feelings, none of this should be a surprise.

Still is, though.

He stares at the phone and her simple reply with an emoji several times during the day. In between deliveries.

He stares at it when he's home. Tense with the uncertainty of when he'll endure the worst times of this op again. When Barnet or Price tell him it's time and not only for the deliveries.

When Jay can't sleep and the early hours drag, he lies with his legs outstretched on the couch and he knows she'll be back at her apartment, unable to sleep yet. Needing to unwind for a while and he doesn't hesitate as he finds her number, presses the button and holds the cell to his ear.

Catches himself smiling as he hears her voice, the mix of concern and admonishment in her tone. Allows himself the comfort it gives him.

"Why aren't you asleep?"

"Hello to you too."

"Hey, everything okay?"

"Yeah. Figured I'd call. Check your shift was okay. Barnet around?"

"No, Marcie was. Acting skittish."

"So, a normal Friday?" Jay quips, relaxing more.

Her laugh, brief as it is, has him grinning.

"How was your Friday? Any word from Barnet or Price?" Hailey asks him around a yawn.

"Nothing. It's too quiet. Perhaps they're just checking whether I'm back making deliveries, staying out of trouble before it starts again."

"Could be."

Hailey yawns again.

"I should let you go," Jay says then on instinct, he blames tiredness, the words falling from his mouth before he can stop them, "Hey, you want to come over here on Sunday. I'll make you brunch before you have to go to the bar. Return the favor."

He regrets the offer immediately.

"Or not," he amends, adding, "I'll see you soon anyway," stopping when he realizes she's saying something.

"Jay, shut up. I'd love to. Now, go rest okay?"

The call ends. It shouldn't be this simple, right? And it shouldn't mean he stares at his phone, wondering all the more what all of this with Hailey is about.

Yet it is. And he does.

**\- - - -**

**Saturday December 16th 2017**

Hailey never knows if Marcie will appear from one day to the next these days. It's a relief when she's not. Too wired on oxy. Easily distracted.

Hailey still feels for her. Still wants things to get better. She's a victim of circumstance, she's living proof of how losing a child can derail a person.

Perhaps she wasn't perfect beforehand, but it destroyed any hope of normalcy throwing the natural order of life off and few ever get wholly back on track.

You have to want to get back on track. Believe that life can get better. Except when you lose your child and you're too old for another. What's the point? Haileys seen how it goes before.

It's mid-afternoon now and there's no sign of her today. The bar's warm while outside the winter air is biting.

Hailey's wiping down the back of the bar for what seems like the hundredth time today when fingertips run alongside her right arm and she feels warm breath on her neck.

She glances towards the hand, sees the fading marks on the knuckles. There's nothing gentle in the way Barnet touches her. At best, he's clumsy. At worst, it's chilling, except there's nothing that holds fear where this man's concerned for Hailey herself.

Especially when she considers who she's come up against before.

"Hey Paula."

She turns around, stepping away from Barnet and holds the cloth, nodding toward him and moves toward the bar, picking up a glass as she puts the cloth down, "The usual?"

Barnet smirks, "I guess I got my answer. You and Ryan, huh?"

Hailey feigns a look of confusion, "Ryan?"

"Honey, you'll see who's worth it in the end," he gestures towards the glass she's holding and shakes his head, "Was passing by. Thought I'd see where I stand. Let me know when you change your mind. I'll be waiting."

She watches as he disappears through the side door.

"You're smart, Paula, and I think you already know, but this is for the future. In case that ache of loneliness gets too much. Never think for a moment that guy is the answer to the loneliness, promise me that?"

Hailey looks from the side door to the voice, sees Terry and smiles. Almost responds with 'Copy that' as she would if it was Voight or Olinsky, even Jay.

"I promise, Terry."

The older man doesn't smile as he carries on.

"I think you realize how fucked up he is, how fucked up _everyone_ is around these parts. Myself included. You know when I may seem like the sanest one, that's when I think it's time for you to pack up. Ryan too, if he's got any sense."

"You're selling yourself short, Terry."

He shakes his head, "No, you are. Every single day you're here when I show up, it's you doing that, Paula. You placing yourself deeper in a situation few people have gotten out of. Be damn careful, both of you."

"Like Kacey?"

Terry doesn't reply, just picks up the half-full glass and turns away.

Irritation simmers within Hailey. That and frustration at the warnings, so many warnings but always no substance. Nothing that gets them further. There's always a step forward and multiple back.

She decides there and then she'll change the tide herself.

**\- - - -**

**Sunday December 17th 2017**

"I think I'll come to Chef Halstead's brunch place another time," Hailey says enthusiastically from where she's sat on the couch next to him as she lays down the knife and fork onto the plate and puts the plate on the table in front of them.

"It's only pancakes, bacon and maple syrup, Hailey."

"True, but I knew a guy once who would always burn the bacon and undercook the pancakes, so I had low expectations."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, let's not go there," she changes the subject quickly, "No word from you know who yet? No sign of anything restarting?"

Jay pulls a face, "Oh I've had messages but they've all been about the deliveries. Nothing at all. I thought maybe this weekend they'd message, but nothing."

"And how's your sleep?" Hailey asks carefully. He looks better. The dark circles under his eyes are less pronounced. The facial hair is longer but seems to have been trimmed at least.

"Comes and goes. I wonder if that's the point of all of this. Take the guys to a point that they're close to the worst and step away but leave them with the memories back and then just when they're starting to recover."

"They take it to a worse point and their bodies and minds can't take it?" Hailey finishes.

Jay nods, a grim expression on his face, but he shakes himself, stands up with his own plate and reaches for Hailey's and walks towards the sink, placing the plates and cutlery into it and then turning around.

"So you were saying Terry was giving you warnings again?"

"Yeah. I mean, unless he'll tell me something concrete, what's the point? Everyone tells us a little and then they back off. We just need 1 person to flip."

Jay rejoins her and sinks down back onto the couch, dragging his hand down his face as he does.

"Yeah. We could use Flynn or Anthony Hunt coming out of hiding or anyone."

"Or a lead of any kind. Adam could find something out when he goes under."

"That would be good. I don't think it's everything though unless someone gets talkative. We need eyes downstairs. In the cellar."

"Yeah," Hailey replies, her tone non-committal.

Jay notices, his eyes narrowing, "Hailey?"

"What? We need something, right?"

"On your own? Be careful," Jay warns.

"I will be. It's better than any other option on the table which could shut us right down though."

"Still," Jay whispers, concern palpable in his hushed tone.

"I'll be okay, Jay. Promise."

"I'll be holding you to that, Hailey." he leans in, feeling a sense of disappointment creep upon him as she smiles then reaches for her bag.

"I gotta go, but I also remembered you loaned me a shirt that time I stayed over so I washed it and here you go."

She hands a small bag with the shirt folded neatly and smelling of what Jay realizes is the familiar scent of fabric softener on Hailey's clothes.

"You didn't need to."

"Like you and the thermos, right?"

Jay grins and nods, "Yeah, so another thing then?"

"Kinda," Hailey smiles as she stands up and doesn't comment when Jay does the same and walks over with her toward the door, "If they contact you, if they call you in. Let me know?"

"You'll be the first to know."

His hand briefly touching her arm stops her from opening the door and she looks down, thinking how different his touch feels even though she's wearing her jacket and she can't feel his fingers on her skin. It's a world away from Barnet's touch and as she looks up at him, the concern in his eyes is genuine. The affection she feels, real.

"And you, please be careful, okay?"

Her hand brushes against his arm in acknowledgement and a quiet nod of promise that she will be, and she opens the door, feeling his gaze on her and fighting against the urge to look back.

**\- - - -**

**Monday December 18th, 2017**

Adam huffs out a bored sigh as he stands in the doorway of the back entrance to the bar. It's cold but not overly so, given how close Christmas is.

He went under yesterday. He may as well not be, though at least they've allowed him behind the bar, once at least. For now, they have relegated him to security on the back door.

It's clear he's only trusted to a certain degree, and the delivery has already been and gone. The crate is a few feet from where Adam stands now.

Every time he turns around he can see the door that's shut but because the lock is broken, all it needs is a gentle push and Adam could go in, get into the crate and get out.

He just needs to be patient. Too bad being patient doesn't come naturally to him.

**\- - - -**

**Tuesday December 19th, 2017**

If there's one thing Hailey's learned in life, it's that life's always about practising for what comes later.

As a child, she perfected going about her business quietly. Even if a child's business was nothing compared to adult Hailey's existence.

When things were awful and the shouting didn't stop and seemed like it never would, she'd hide in her room till it was impossible to, till she needed to go to the bathroom and so she'd creep across the landing from her bedroom and open the door so quietly, shut it so carefully.

Over time, she got better so her dad would never realize.

It became useful to have that practice in later years. To move somewhere else and no one would be any the wiser.

She'd used it to her advantage in every way. To be as unobtrusive as possible. To creep up on people.

When it didn't work, that helped too. So now she can hear the slightest creak of a floorboard. She can sense the change in air. Sometimes still too late. After all, she couldn't do it for others if she wasn't there too, and so she could never help them when they needed it most.

She stops herself thinking those thoughts because they're never helpful.

Whereas all she's learned, it _is_ helpful right now.

It's early, but not so early that should anything go wrong she can't explain. As long as she's found anywhere but here that is.

Here being the cellar.

The cellar that the best little tools in the land that she's quietly owned since she first went undercover had broken into and if all goes to plan no one will be the wiser.

Assuming there're no cameras, which as she looks around the room Jay's been in before, she can see no sign of.

She's quick, methodical as she searches. Sees the table with chairs around it that Jay's mentioned, the video screen on the wall. It's clinical in its appearance and in its smell too, antiseptic lingers in the air. It's cold, not in temperature but in the atmosphere. Though there's no sign of what Jay's endured here and not just Jay, the other men who've been here too.

Hailey finds nothing at first. Not until she looks behind the video screen in the tiny space and sees it.

It is wrong, it's plural. Exactly what she'd seen last night ahead of today on the internet. Both of them blockers. Black. She notes the screen isn't even plugged in a way that could work. Instead, a shield for what it hides.

She pulls out the phone from her pocket, takes quick pictures which aren't the best of quality but they do at least show them.

Hailey's eyes scan the room for further clues till her eyes fall again on the door in the corner. She shouldn't try, it's risky on her own. She does anyway.

The first door opens, it's unexpected and so she looks around her. Looking toward the second door that's locked, and it takes a little more effort to get in.

Takes a minute too long, but she's come this far and as the door opens and she places the tool back into her pocket, presses the light switch with her gloved hand and steps into the room seeing what's on the surrounding walls, she's torn between wishing she hadn't and relief almost that she has.

The walls have a series of pictures. Dates and letters above each name that vary from person to person.

MIA. KIA. ON ACTIVE SERVICE.

The first set of letters are above Anthony Hunt's picture. The second above too many other pictures. And the final?

Jay's face, Ryan Foster written underneath.

Confirmation of what Steven Flynn had told Jay. There's no comfort in it and there's almost disappointment in Hailey as she realizes the room holds no more secrets, just a small minibar size fridge on the ground in the corner with a bottle of water resting on the shelf as she opens it and looks inside.

She takes several pictures. Maybe they can find out the handwriting, the source. She wants to do more. Wants to check the walls.

Perhaps Antonio had been right. A raid could've achieved that, but overall, she still thinks her way stands a better chance of working, of maintaining the integrity of the undercover.

Another thing she'd learned as a child was if you change anything, even minor things, you put everything back exactly the way you found them.

Everything is as though no one's touched it and she walks up the stairs, opens the door and shuts it firmly but as quiet as she can behind her, steps into the bathroom and removes the gloves placing them in her bag in the hole where the material's come away from the rest of the bag, she breathes a sigh of quiet relief that no one interrupted and that it's not too far from the time she usually arrives to open the bar.

It lasts for the 5 minutes she takes to make herself look presentable. To smudge on some lip salve and pull the bobble from her hair.

Lasts until she opens the door to the bar area and the moment she sees Marcie. Sat on one of the barstools, nursing a drink and offering a smile that even though she's too far away Hailey knows doesn't reach her eyes.

"Couldn't sleep either, Paula?" The older woman pats the stool next to her, "Pull up a stool and we'll talk about sleepless nights, huh?"

**\- - - -**

**Wednesday December 20th, 2017**

Jay thumbs through the photograph in the file handed to him by Voight. Senses the scrutiny from the other man.

From Hailey and Al, too.

Another early morning meet. This time by the silos. Icy temperature and a feeling that snow will fall hard. There's no sense of Christmas cheer in the silos.

No sense of Christmas cheer in Jay as he looks at the pictures Hailey had taken in the small room of the other men involved in it all.

"Flynn wasn't lying then? Nothing else, though?" He switches his attention from the photos to Hailey as he asks, already certain of the answer.

"No. It was strange. Felt like there should be other stuff there, but no, nothing," she confirms with an apologetic expression on her face.

"Those blockers, though. Burgess checked with the tech guy and he said that even one of them would block signals." Olinsky puts in.

"That's something. You told Antonio that Marcie was there when you went upstairs? She given you any trouble? Any sign they've made you?" Voight inquires of Hailey.

"No, nothing. At least not by the time I was sitting next to her."

Jay glances at her sharply, "Before that though?"

"I don't know. She hides well, whatever it is. I keep thinking maybe she knows more and I just need to press her and she'll flip. Just like everyone else involved in all this, she closes off. Doesn't say a thing."

"I should speak to her again," Jay suggests, "Just me and her. Maybe she's all kinds of mixed up. The time of year."

"Not yet, Jay," Voight replies then adds, "They mentioned anything to you about starting up the whole cellar thing again?"

"Nope."

Voight eyes Olinsky. Knows his oldest friend is on the same wavelength and he lets him voice his thoughts instead of it being him this time.

"I think they're observing you. Seeing how you are, seeing how you're responding to what they've done so far. I don't think they've made you. I wondered about this yesterday, wondered about it every time we hit a roadblock. Thing is, we're running out of options with the blocker in the cellar. With how far they've been going," Al pauses, stepping closer to Jay, his voice lowering, the tone careful, "I'm not sure how viable this operation is much longer without endangering you unnecessarily."

They all watch Jay. He knows they do. Maybe they expected an explosion of protest. Maybe Jay expected one too. He agrees with Al though: he doesn't think they have made him or Hailey, yet.

"I could go in with an old style wire? Would that work?" He tries, even though his own experience with them isn't great. Even if it worked. Just one brief lapse of his consciousness, one little moment where they take the whole repetition of what he's been through before too far and it's all over.

Voight's silent response, the look he gives Jay and the way Al looks at him too. It says everything.

"We said till Christmas, Jay. You asked me till The New Year'll give you till to the new year and we hope Ruzek finds something while he's at that other bar but we get nothing? I pull you both. We close everything down and we'll press harder with everything we've learned. They call you in at this stage, you tell us, and we'll decide then, you copy?"

Jay looks from Voight and Al to Hailey. Finds what he sees more frequently in her these days. Comfort and calmness that ground him despite everything.

He wants to argue. He wants to say he doesn't need protecting and that he's got this. He can handle it. The trouble with that is he doesn't know quite how far the _this_ will go. His lack of sleep, the disruption to any of the sleep he gets? It tells the story all on its own.

He sees her nod. The smile that tells him despite his burning disappointment unless something drastically changes that it was all for nothing, some things have changed and that it'll be okay.

"Copy that, Sarge."

He looks away from Voight back to Hailey who nods again and to Al who glances at Hailey and then back to Jay and there's an almost imperceptible smile on the older man's face.

"Ok, we're going to keep all the angles we got going on from this case while we can till the new year. You two be careful."

"Sarge," Hailey and Jay chorus in unison and watch as Voight walks towards his truck, Olinsky lingering closer to them both, waiting till Voight gets in the vehicle and slams the door shut.

He gestures between them both, "What the man said, be careful and I know you're doing it already, but take care of each other and listen to each other, okay?"

Al walks to the vehicle that Voight's started, jumps in and shuts the door and the truck reverses quickly, speeding away out of sight within a couple of seconds.

It's quiet between Hailey and Jay at first. Quiet except for the wind whistling around them and through the abandoned buildings surrounding them.

They both go to speak at the same time and grin as they do.

"You first," Jay says.

"I was just asking if you were okay? All this undercover's done to you and it may come to an end."

"We're only on December 20th, Hailey. Still a lot of this year to go," Jay points out and Hailey shrugs, muttering, "True." in response.

"I am okay though. Surprisingly. Kinda thanks to you," he admits, surprised at himself for saying it.

Hailey looks visibly surprised too for a moment but then smiles and not the way she had before, the way she's done so many times to ground him because her eyes truly match the smile now. If he didn't know better, he'd say it's almost a delighted smile, definitely a surprised one.

He files it away in his newly formed 'things I like about Hailey Upton' folder in his head.

"You know I'll help anyway I can, Jay."

"I know which brings me to how I can help you and me. I have an ulterior motive."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, so we've established Christmas isn't so good for us and neither of us could be with family even if we wanted to be so you, me, Christmas, your place. I'll bring tinsel, baubles, maybe even some home-made something, you bring the wine and I promise this time we'll actually eat the main course."

Jay consciously files Hailey's quick laugh to the folder in his head.

"Oh man, are you in for a disappointment if you're expecting some kind of full turkey dinner."

"Hey, I'd settle for bags of potato chips and that amazing wine you had last time."

"Noted, but maybe I'll try something a little extra just to mark the occasion."

"Your cupcakes would be cool."

Hailey grins, "Deal and now I got to go, but first," she holds up her hand before she turns away toward her car.

Jay knows immediately what's about to happen because he does the same. He walks to his own car, reaching across to the passenger seat and picks up the flask, slamming the door and turning around to find Hailey in front of him, grinning delightedly.

"Oh man, we're predictable."

"Not the worst thing, though," Hailey grins as they exchange the thermoses.

"It isn't," Jay agrees, "Hey, you be safe, I got a feeling you could be more vulnerable right now than me, particularly if they never call me back down there again."

"I'll be safe as long as you promise to be safe too."

"Copy that."

If all this ends soon, it's no exaggeration to say that this, this routine. The comfort Jay's found in the shared habits and predictability? He'll miss it.

**\- - - -**

**Thursday December 21st 2017**

Festive cheer isn't a thing for the 21st District or at least hasn't been today and Trudy Platt's about done.

What's said to be the shortest day of the year has felt like the longest. Asshole after asshole and she can't wait to get home, lay her feet on Mouch's lap and count down the days till she next gets a vacation.

It's almost 9pm when she hears someone clear their throat and then murmur, "Excuse me?"

Trudy looks up and gives the person a once over. Dark-haired lady, petite with immaculate fashion sense.

"Are you lost, ma'am?"

The woman smiles and shakes her head, "Not so much. Though it's been a while and I'm kind of fighting the urge to turn back around and run out that door so," she takes a deep breath and pulls something from her coat pocket, a business card and slides the card across, "Is Detective Upton still here? I'd like to talk to her."

Trudy looks from the card to the woman, "And you are?"

"Hi, I'm Kayleigh Alexander."


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're still on December 21st.

Kayleigh Alexander's wearing a scarf which she fidgets with as she sits in the break room upstairs at the 21st, looking around her occasionally as Kevin enters the room, followed by Kim who smiles warmly at the woman.

"As Sergeant Platt explained to you, Mrs Alexander, Detective Upton isn't available right now. You remember me, Officer Kevin Atwater, and this is Officer Kim Burgess. You're okay to talk to us both?"

Kayleigh nods, "Yeah, I remember you too and Detective Upton. You were both kind, didn't push me. You probably could've done that. Possibly should."

Kevin pulls a chair away from the table as Kim does the same and sits down opposite her.

"Was there something you wanted to talk to us about?"

Her fingers worry more at the loose ends of the scarf and she drags her other hand through her hair.

"Yeah though I have no idea how helpful I'll be. I should've told you that day it's just I was worried about my husband coming home. Worried about his reaction and I kept it all inside me but he knows; my husband, that is. He knows me and I finally caved 3 days ago and he talked me into coming."

"Anything you tell us about Peter Barnet and your relationship with him would help."

She shakes her head, "It's not really my relationship with Pete that I'm here about, though I suppose it affected me either way. It's Pete's relationship with that man. That poisonous bastard."

"Which man?" Kim prompts.

"James Price," Kayleigh's lips curl in disgust as she says his name, "Iraq changed Pete for sure, but that man turned Peter more. Made him bitter, angrier. Twisted him and from what I hear, he's still doing that to this day."

"What do you mean, Mrs Alexander?" Kevin asks.

"Kayleigh, please call me Kayleigh and um, well, I hear things. I still know people who know Pete, the people around him. Amy, Amelia or something. Suddenly turned up injured? I'm right aren't I?"

Neither Kevin nor Kim respond.

"Okay yeah, figures. I imagine she won't press charges. She likely loves him. Fears him too. She'll be terrified of Price, though. You know, Price has no redeeming qualities at all. He hates women, he hates men, he hates anyone who comes back from a war zone in a fit state. He's got an eye for vulnerabilities. Rules by fear and intimidation, makes people think they can't exist or cope without him. Will exploit it to stay rich. He'll hurt anyone and anything that jeopardizes it. Ring any bells?"

Kevin and Kim exchange a glance.

"Kayleigh, would you say that Barnet is intimidated by Price?" Kevin asks.

"I would guarantee it. You know when I heard about the assault on that lady. I tried reaching out to him. Once upon a time, he used to listen. Pete's dangerous, he is but if you talk to him. If you get him away from that man and _really_ talk to him, he's different. He could be different and maybe it's too late for him but if you separate him, it won't be too late to save others from him," she exhales deeply, "I don't know if this has been helpful at all. I just - I still feel affection for Pete despite everything. The first man I fell for. You always remember them, right?"

"Right," Kim replies, "So did you get through to him?"

Kayleigh shakes her head, "No. You know the best thing for this city? Wipe Price off this earth. I don't care how you do it. Just please find a way. I wish I knew more, but that's the danger of him. The mystery of him that sucks people in. They wanna know more and yet they end up spiralling. That's all I know of him and all I ever want to know till I see a headline or get a call telling me he's in County or he's under the ground. Forever."

Kayleigh's chair scrapes as she pushes it backwards with her feet and stands up.

"That's all I came here to say. I have no idea if it's helpful. I suspect not, but I will say if Pete is unreachable but you get him alone and if you or any of your co-workers need to get through to him. To make him listen. You can call me. It's worth another go, right?"

"Right," Kim repeats, "Thank you Kayleigh."

"Let me walk you downstairs," Kevin gestures towards the bullpen and Kayleigh nods, walking ahead allowing Kevin and Kim to share a shrug of disappointment before Kim refusing to give up complete hope writes names on the pad she'd brought into the break room earlier speaks and Kayleigh stops and turns around.

"Kayleigh, before you go, do any of these names mean anything to you? Other than what you may have seen in the news?" She hands the pad to Kayleigh, who raises her eyebrows as she takes the pad from her and looks between Kevin and Kim.

Her eyes scan the pad once and she shakes her head as she looks up, but then cuts off and her eyes look back at the pad, her eyebrows lifting in recognition.

"Marcie Townsend. Yeah, If I'm thinking of the same person. Not long after Pete got back the last time, just after he started hanging around Price and shortly before he almost killed me, we went out for a meal. Price dated no one as far as I remember before or after, but he brought a dinner date that night," she taps the pad, "The date I'm pretty sure was Marcie Townsend."

\- - - -

**Saturday December 23rd 2017**

As much of a revelation the 'double date' had been, it's a slight step forward rather than anything else. Again.

Jay and Hailey know of what she'd said. Yesterday for a while, Kim had hoped for the best. Felt it could transform everything, but so far that's not been the case.

Today they're back to looking for links. Looking for handwriting, that one piece of evidence that means Jay and Hailey's undercover can be closed down for the best reasons.

Adam's still undercover. Still getting nowhere.

She searches through yet more pod footage, rubbing at her eyes as she's been staring at it for too long without a break when her phone vibrates and she sees a number she doesn't recognize.

"Kim Burgess," she says into the phone before she hears the voice and listens, standing up as the voice continues and grabbing her jacket already as she instructs, We'll be right there. Don't go inside. Just wait for us."

The call ends and Antonio looks up at her quizzically.

"That was Cheryl Adams. Steven Flynn's neighbor. She heard shouting and then a loud banging or thudding sound, saw someone run away from the house and a vehicle driving off at speed. The door's still open, so I've said we'll go."

Antonio nods and stands up, grabbing his own jacket and hat as Olinsky signals toward Voight's office.

"I'll tell him, Kev, you go with them. Let Platt know too and we'll join you as soon as we can."

"Got it." Kim acknowledges as she, Kev and Antonio hurry downstairs.

\- - - -

Cheryl Adams opens her front door as soon as she sees Kim, Antonio and Kevin arrive and hurries down the steps to greet them.

"Ma'am, I need you to go inside."

The woman looks terrified and doesn't need to be told twice as she disappears out of sight.

Kim can see the front door's still open and pulls her gun, nodding as Antonio gestures towards the back of the house and disappears out of sight.

Kim and Kevin move in unison up the steps and Kev calls out, "Chicago PD," as Kim pushes the door open and steps into the house, Kevin behind her.

As they sweep through the house, first downstairs then upstairs, there's no sign of life and as they let Antonio in through the back, there's nothing.

Except in the kitchen. A slight amount of blood on the floor, which doesn't seem to trail anywhere else, but something is better than nothing.

Voight's walking into the kitchen just as Kim's about to call for Forensics.

"We check pod footage, we check with neighbors. We don't have a body, but this blood'll reveal something." He orders as the room fills up around them.

Kim just hopes that the tide is finally turning for them all on this case.

\- - - -

Jay tips out the bag onto the kitchen counter and scratches his head. Maybe he _did_ go a little overboard on the decorations.

Maybe he also went a little crazy with the chips and okay, he also bought the most expensive cranberry sauce in the store, just in case Hailey got a turkey after all.

The remaining item he's got no regrets about as he holds it up and smiles, satisfied.

He resists the urge to message Hailey now. Knowing she'll be at the bar. It's been a hard job resisting going to the bar or to see Marcie at her apartment. Demanding to know what the hell she's playing at.

Thoughts running wild in his brain about everything. What Kayleigh had told Kev and Kim. There's no doubt in Jay's mind, and there hasn't been from early on that Price is the architect of all of this. The chief instigator of the pain Jay and the other men have endured, but there's a nagging doubt there too now.

A nagging doubt he tries to rationalize and then dismiss, but it keeps coming back.

Yet another thing to add to why it's easy to stay awake, to wait until he knows Hailey'll be back at her place because his brain is too full of thoughts, present and past, to sleep for long.

Soon enough it's that time and he's laying on top of the covers of the bed, still fully clothed.

**Wait till you see the amazing decorations I bought.**

There's a brief rush of happiness that floods him when he sees the message has been read instantly and a reply comes back a few seconds later.

_Teaser. ;D_

**It's fun to tease at Christmas.**

_Better be worth it._

**The present I got you definitely is.**

His cell vibrates for the incoming call immediately within seconds, ready to say hello, but as he goes to say it, she interrupts him before he gets a chance.

"We said no presents, Jay."

Jay shakes his head, "Well, that's not true. We said nothing at all about presents, and what I got is nothing special. I had free time, Hailey. You have less. Besides, I don't give to receive."

He hears the skeptical sound she makes and grins into the receiver before he turns serious and continues, "Hey, how was she today?"

"Didn't see her. Messaged me at 9pm apologizing and said she'd see me tomorrow."

"Hmm."

"My thoughts exactly. Anyway, Mr Changing the Subject, I'll get you a present too but maybe it'll be late."

"As long as it's not a Thermos, Hailey."

"Screw you, Halstead, I'm going to sleep and I'll buy you a pebble if you aren't careful. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Jay replies with a laugh.

It's easier to sleep after all. At least for the first hour, anyway.

\- - - -

**Saturday December 24th 2017**

Because of the holidays, the one communication Jay's had in recent days from Barnet asked if he'd work this morning so here he is, in the driving rain, navigating his way through hectic Chicago streets and seeing hordes of people last-minute shopping.

Normally he'd be one of them, snatching time in between getting bad guys to find something he'd hope Will would want while wrestling with whether he should even bother getting his dad a bottle of something.

Sometimes he'd lose the battle with his conscience, buy something, and end up in a fight with home, go home with the bottle untouched and drown his sorrows over the following days.

Before Erin, anyway. When there was scarcely anything to be seen of Will and Afghanistan and losing his mother had laid a trail of destruction on and around him.

Tomorrow he'll call Will. Screw the consequences. He misses his big brother. He's tried not to think of him, but this time of year it's hard not to remember everything connected to Christmas.

His mom singing Christmas songs. Her voice was sweet and tuneful while the rest of the Halsteads weren't quite so much.

For all the bad, there was good.

Talking of bad, last night's sleep had been awful. Aside from that first hour, memories of Afghanistan plagued his sleep. Tired of waking up panting, sweating each time he'd got ten minutes here, or twenty minutes there, he'd got up and had a shower. Tired of what he saw in the mirror, he'd shaved.

It helped. Makes him feel more in control.

He arrives at the first bar a few minutes later, jumping out of the van and making the delivery. He feels the buzz of his cell when he's unloading the 2 crates and figures if it's important it'll go to voicemail.

As he slides back into the driver's seat, he pulls the phone from his pocket and sees there's no message, but he can see the number and dials it.

The line cuts out and the number's unobtainable. A burner phone perhaps? He'll talk to Al later. He'd had a message first thing to call as soon as he's done with deliveries, so he'll do that when he's back at the apartment.

Jay carries on with deliveries and he's on his penultimate one in Canaryville when his cell vibrates again.

Whoever's trying him has awful timing as Gerard Carter steps outside and nods towards the younger man next to him. His son, Clark, who takes the 2 crates individually into the building and both men turn away with no further word.

"Merry Christmas," Jay mutters under his breath sarcastically.

Only 1 more delivery to go at least.

He reaches for his phone but the sound of a car horn has him looking up quickly and he does an immediate double take as a man standing outside the car, opens the car quickly, slides in and the vehicle speeds away.

Jay gets a partial plate at least which he memorizes for later, his thoughts preoccupied though with thinking it can't have been, right? And yet the person looked exactly like him.

He looks back down at his cell, at the number of the missed call and it's different from before. He holds the phone up to his ear, and it rings out this time.

Rings out for two minutes until Jay gives up, he'll try again later. For now, just get the next delivery over and done so he can relax at least a little.

\- - - -

The first task for Kevin on Christmas Eve late morning is looking at pod footage in the tech room They should get the initial results on the blood residue found in Flynn's home later today.

He's deep in concentration staring at the footage when a hand slaps on his shoulder.

"Guess whose undercover just ended without warning."

Kevin whirls around in his chair and fist bumps his partner.

"Just like that?"

Adam shrugs, "Well, he was saying something about laying people off and he just pointed toward the door and at me."

"So we got nothing?"

Adam smirks, "Oh ye of little faith, yeah I got something," he pulls his cell from his pocket, holds it in front of his partner and grins at the low whistle from Kevin.

"Now what the hell would veterans centers want that amount of coke for?"

"Exactly. Especially as that bar's regulars were mostly older guys. Voight's talking about getting a warrant, though he wants to be sure Jay and Hailey are safely out of the way first," Adam points toward the screen Kevin's been staring at which hadn't paused, "Hey, that the vehicle we're looking for cause someone just got out the car?"

Kevin turns his chair back towards the screen and nods, zooming in on the figure approaching the Flynn house.

He narrows his eyes and then zooms in closer, not releasing a breath until he hears Adam's emphatically spoken, "Holy shit."

"Yeah, you got that right, bro."

"I'll get the others," Adam says quickly, leaving Kevin staring at the screen, blinking in disbelief.

\- - - -

Jay takes the keys from the ignition, opens the door and slams it behind him, rubbing at his chin, yawning slightly as he pulls the cell from his pocket and walks toward the building, ready to drop off his keys and get on with looking forward for once to Christmas.

It's the rain thundering off the buildings around him and him being distracted by his phone that means he's only aware of the screech of tyres until they're almost next to him. It all happens so fast.

Too fast for Jay to react. Hands, more than 1 pair grab at him. Punching him and he fights for all he can for as long as he can, hearing grunting and briefly satisfying grunts of pain from his attackers.

Then there's a sharp familiar pain at the back of his neck and the lights go out.

\- - - -

Hailey knows exactly the moment the feeling she thought from years ago that shed been able to consign to the worst memories of her life cabinet returns.

The moment icy tendrils of fear creep their way through her veins and there's that moment of desperation and helplessness she never missed in the first place again.

It's when Marcie, who's never looked more in control than she had earlier today: more clear-eyed than in all the time Hailey's known her, is looking at her cell and it rings and she's the epitome of poise till less than a minute later and her face crumples and she stares at Hailey, pale and wide-eyed and Hailey knows then.

Knows that Jay's in trouble. Knows that lightning _has_ struck twice and just prays that it doesn't end the same way.

\- - - -

The lights never fully turn back on for him. Jay can hear screaming. He can hear yelling. He can hear crying and he can hear someone begging.

For hours and hours.

He can't make out words. He can't make out the yelling, and he can't hear what whoever's begging is saying.

Only later, it must be later when frigid air awakens his senses, and it's pitch black aside from what lights surrounding what Jay can just about make out is a vehicle he's in. He's dragged from it and dropped to the ground. The drop steals Jay's breath from him for several long moments.

He lies there. Finding his breath eventually, already beginning to shiver when he feels someone's breath against the back of his neck. It almost feels reassuring for a moment because it's hot and he's so cold.

Belatedly he realizes they're speaking, and he tries to tune in. It's all a blur till the last few words which he doesn't mistake even semi-conscious and it feels like his stomach has dropped through the hard ground beneath him.

"Merry Christmas, Detective."

The last sound he hears is laughter. Cold, mocking laughter.

\- - - -

**Christmas Day**

The bar's closed now. Earlier than usual because as soon as Hailey had left the bar, she'd called Voight and hurriedly explained what had happened. He'd told her that the person spotted outside of Flynn's home on pod footage was Marcie.

Marcie's at the 21st now. Willingly.

The blood they'd discovered doesn't belong to Steven Flynn at least, they're still trying to find out who, but if Flynn is the one who's found Jay each time, Hailey has hope even if it's growing less by the moment that he'll help again.

She's at her UC apartment because right now she's only got 1 thing, 1 person on her mind. Jay and getting him back.

When she'd walked back into the bar after the call with Voight, Marcie hadn't been there. An hour later, she'd walked into the 21st.

Hailey knows there's no talking to her. No chance they'll get anything or find anything from her, not yet. Though if Jay's still missing in a few hours, she _will_ talk. Hailey will make sure of that.

It's not looking good in terms of Marcie's involvement, but the rule in this case has always felt like expect the unexpected, so why would now be any different?

Hailey's undercover hangs by a thread. Or maybe it doesn't exist at all. It's the least of her concerns now. Her first instinct had been to search for Jay. Everyone is doing that anyway. Patrols are out there searching for him. Beyond the time some of them were due to be working. The time they could be at home with their families for Christmas.

Hailey stares at her cell. Willing it to ring. Frustratingly, upsettingly. it remains resolutely quiet.

\- - - -

The fine rain hasn't stopped for hours, the cold is frigid. The wind whistles between the disused factories. Distant lighting reflects against the puddles, and a rat scurries between the abandoned buildings.

Till it pauses, making a small diversion as it sees the body and slowly approaches it from a few metres away, sniffing at the ground, the smell changing slightly as it nears the body. A metallic smell rather than rainfall.

The body is clothed in expensive quality clothes now sodden with rain. The body is face down, eyes closed, the hands unmoving, fingertips stained with blood.

The rat sniffs at the ground more and moves along next to the body until its level with a hand. The rat's hungry. Food is scarce when you're one of many others scavenging in a desperate quest for something to eat.

It opens its mouth and lowers it toward the fingertips, finally some food and only this rat so far aware of the rich feast they're about to begin.

The movement is minute, perhaps just a muscle reflex in someone close to death or even past death, but it serves enough to startle the rat and it moves away till it pauses and looks back watching the body before closing in on it again when there's no other sign of movement.

This time as its teeth attempt to break the skin, ready to gnaw its way through skin and bone, the body moves again followed by a quiet desperate groan, though the rat barely hears the noise as it scurries away and into the night.

Leaving the body where it lies, still except for the faintest of movements as the chest rises and falls far slower than it should and the slightest of sounds, as one eye tries to open but it's too bruised and swollen, that's lost even in the vast emptiness of where it, or rather, he lies.

"Hailey."

A sound that's lost as it's captured within the sound of the wind and no one replies and no one's coming.

If the man has any conscious thought, he'd realize that. It's as much reflex, the natural reflex of what could be a dying man, to call for her as it is breathing.

Except Jay Halstead's not dying, he's not, from somewhere within he resolves that today isn't that day for him and he could never give up hope in her, not after all that's been. Not now. Even when he has no right to have hope at all. When he's almost forgotten what hope is.

He shuts his eyes while he waits, it's just resting them, that's all.

A thud shatters Jay's peace, invades his sleep and he's got no idea how long it's been, he's barely aware of anything except a heaviness.

He can hear voices. One of them female. She sounds concerned and he manages a smile or the worst impersonation of a smile because he knew she wouldn't let him down so he repeats her name even though it takes all the strength he has.

"Hailey."

\- - - -

**The silos. We already called 911. They're here now. Go to Med. He's alive.**

Hailey responds quickly. Familiar with the routine now, though it's so messed up that any of this can be called routine.

She presses call back on the number that just rang as she leaves the apartment, not having taken off her coat the entire time, and runs down the stairs rather than waiting for the elevator.

She almost cuts the call, so used to it being disconnected and a burner, but then a voice answers. A female voice and Hailey halts on the stairs.

"Hello? Who's this?"

"Oh god," she hears followed by, "Oh shit," and Hailey thinks she can hear other voices in the background but the call ends and she can worry about it later, for now she has to get to Med.

She reaches the entrance to the ED at the same time the ambulance arrives. The sirens had been sounding, at least as it pulled up, a sign of life she reasons to herself.

The doors open outward and she hovers close by, as the paramedics jump out of the back, including one woman who looks familiar but is seemingly not in uniform, though Hailey pushes the thought aside right now.

She doesn't want to get in the way, but at the same time she wants so much to see him. To see for herself, he's living. He's still breathing because at least while he is there's hope.

Medical staff swarm around the gurney and Hailey can't get near. Till she does, till a space opens up by Jay's head.

Jay's face, his eyes are swollen. He looks like he shaved, so he looks so much younger. He's complexion is chalk-white, and he looks like he's dead, but they're all talking about him, barking out instructions and relaying information so he can't be, right?

She leans into him, close to his ears and tells him, "Fight, Jay, fight," because though he's unconscious they say people can still hear and she needs him to fight. Needs him to know she's here.

That's all she has time to say as someone gently moves her away allowing a nurse to move into her place as they go through another set of double doors and she hears someone shout, "Put him straight into Baghdad," and she goes to follow them but then to her right, sees Olinsky and she stops short.

"How did you know? How did you get here so fast?" she asks him, confused.

"You called, remember?"

Truthfully she doesn't, but she nods anyway and then a thought strikes her, Al's words from days ago 'Take care of each other' and the tears swell as she feels Al's hand on her shoulder.

"Hailey Upton?"

She turns slightly toward the voice saying her name. A voice that's familiar, but she can't place where from but the woman standing there, raising her hand in a gesture of hello is the same woman Hailey had thought was a paramedic without the uniform.

Perhaps she'll talk Hailey and Al through Jay's injuries. His status.

"I'm so sorry I cut you off earlier. We usually use a burner and I forgot."

Or not.

"And you are?" Al asks from beside Hailey.

The smile, uncertain though it is, reminds Hailey of a picture from what could almost be a lifetime ago but is just a matter of weeks and she steps closer to the woman.

"Kacey Stapleton, that's right, isn't it?"


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one thing to note. I'm no medical expert!!

Santa has a broken ankle, or at least a sprained ankle. The lady in the corner of the waiting area hit her head trying to grab the presents she and her husband had hidden up in the attic from their kids and there's a guy with a shirt wrapped around his fingers, too vigorous with a knife chopping the vegetables for Christmas dinner.

Hailey observes it all the way she always does. She can't help but notice, even though her attention's at thirty percent of its usual capacity right now.

What holds her attention most though is the clock in the corner. The one that at once moves too fast, but also too slow. Too slow because it seems like hours. Hailey reckons that it has been hours since she got here, though she's not sure and while she sees the time, it's not something she registers.

She's alone now. Al taking Kacey with him.

Not long after, Hailey had ventured further beyond the sliding doors. Encountering Will almost immediately. The older Halstead brother hadn't needed to say anything. He still did, though. Loudly. Words that stung, though if pressed Hailey couldn't repeat it. The ferocity she can recall. The words aimed at Hailey, but only because she was there. An easy target.

Words similar to the ones she'd fired at Rafferty once upon a time. Rafferty and the people above him. Repeatedly, hoping that they'd do more than tell her to calm down. That somehow they'd find Garrett.

Garrett. Each time she thinks of him. Thinks of the promises she made to herself. That she's broken and for what? To convince herself that she could keep doing it. That she was good at it. As if that even mattered. That it wasn't just an attempt to right a wrong and yet here she is waiting for another partner.

Although at least that's different from before, she hopes, and whatever happens there aren't the same unanswered questions. She rubs at her eyes and sighs, looking away and into nothing.

Someone clears their throat beside her, and she startles slightly. Hears the creak of a chair and looks toward it, her eyes settling on Will, who gives her a hesitant smile as he gestures toward the chair, though he's sitting down before she can nod her assent. She watches him closely, sees the redness of his eyes and the dark circles.

She clings onto the hesitant smile mentally crossing her fingers in her head.

"All things considered, he's lucky," Will begins then quickly amends, "If you call an overdose we think of GHB, hypothermia exacerbated by the overdose and being beaten to hell: luck."

Hailey doesn't trust herself to speak yet.

"He's stable. Serious but stable: The one good part about GHB is that it doesn't stay long in the system and there's no reason to believe he won't recover, and soon we hope."

She almost replies with a quiet, "I know," recalling when she'd got the call about Jay's previous brush with GHB just a few weeks before. Stopping herself in time, her thoughts rolling back to Will's reassurance.

Before she even gets the chance to articulate her thoughts, Will voices it for her.

"Physically anyway."

Hailey swallows reflexively, attention on Will who's biting his lip, his hands trembling as he drags them through his hair, his head bowed.

"You know I wanted him home so bad for Christmas. I wanted to see his stupid face. Wanted to fight with him over my dad and whether he should see him. Not like this, though. Not like this."

Will repeats the words, though his voice gets quieter each time until he stops finally and time stands still around Hailey. Just the words 'He's lucky' that she clings onto because that means he's alive and physical recovery is a start. The mental she can help with. They all can.

Assuming he lets them.

"I should apologize, Hailey," Will's voice cuts in on her thoughts and she catches up fast, immediately shaking her head as she does.

"You don't have to, Will. I get it," she pauses and then to emphasize her words more, she lays a hand tentatively on Will's arm, "I really get it."

"Still," Will insists, "I'm sorry, and I figured you'd want to come up and see him. You've been here so long and alone. Get you a hot drink on the way up?"

So long? Only now, as she nods, stands up and follows Will toward the sliding doors does she see the clock or make sense of what it's showing even though she's stared at it over the time she'd been waiting.

It's almost midday.

\- - - - 

"Do I have to remind you you came here willingly, Marcie?" Antonio breaks the silence that's been heavy in the interview room for the past few minutes.

A game of chess or so it seems starting.

Everything Antonio had learned about Marcie, from everything Jay and Hailey had relayed to the background or the checks they'd run, to the woman's demeanor up till today, had given the impression of someone nearing the end of her rope. Close to breaking point. Fragile.

Here and now? She's staring at her nails, chewing on gum and looking anywhere but at Antonio and Kim. Hell, even Voight hadn't scared her. Voight who stepped out an hour ago and who Antonio knows is observing from behind the other side of the glass. It's Kim alongside Antonio now.

Hailey had mentioned that Marcie had appeared devastated by the phone call in the bar. She's no longer that person, Antonio wonders if she ever was.

"You realize that we can trace the call you received? You know that it will be better for you, Marcie, if you tell us all that you know?" Kim urges, "Right now, your part in all this is minimal and you came here voluntarily."

"What starts to not look good for you is that while a cop is in hospital, we don't know the extent of your involvement until you tell us or we dig deeper? Tell us what you know now. Why risk jail time for people that won't even give you a second thought when we get to them?"

For a moment, maybe a fraction longer but never long enough for Antonio to believe it, he thinks they have her. Her eyes flick towards him and she bites her lip, but then her back straightens and the sweet lady dealt the hardest of hands is gone without a trace.

"I should have smelled the cop on him and her. Guess I'm losing my touch, huh?"

\- - - - 

Hailey waits as Will talks to one of the other doctors. Feeling a surge of hope when the other doctor smiles and Will responds in kind.

Will turns toward Hailey, gesturing for her to join him. As she does, Will introduces her to the other man.

"This is Dr. Cain, he's been looking after Jay."

"You're Jay's partner? Will explained you'd been waiting since they brought in Jay."

Dr Cain is older, much older than Hailey and Will. His hair's gray, he looks weathered by his years, but his smile, the care in his eyes, is still there. It's heartening, given all he must have seen over the years.

"That's me. Hailey Upton," she extends a hand toward him, which he takes, his hand staying in place for a moment, his other hand on top. A gesture of comfort, unexpected, so it throws her off for a second.

Dr Cain apparently realizes this and pulls his hand away, making no comment but offering a sympathetic smile.

"I was just telling Will that Jay has improved a lot over the past hour. When he came in, he was in what I'd term the severely hypothermic range. His temperature was 29 celsius, and it was in danger of decreasing further quickly. Combined with shock and what was an excessive forced overdose of what we now know was GHB and add to that, concussion and other physical injuries, it didn't look good."

Hailey can recall all the autopsy reports easily and she feels the sudden urge to vomit, but Will's smile and Dr Cain's opening words to her pull her back from the edge of losing control.

"And now?"

"We used some active rewarming techniques to assist Jay's body temperature back to its normal status. We've used warmed IV fluids, he's been hooked up to a cardiac monitor, and all of that combined with the fact that the one good element of GHB is that it doesn't stay in the system long means that Jay has a very good prognosis."

Hailey sags with relief, nods, and blows out a breath, not able to find words as she looks past both men and sees beyond them for the first time, the room with a patient lying on a bed and realizes that it's Jay.

She wants to learn more about Jay's recovery. Should probably know what to expect when she walks in and sees him there, but nothing else matters except for being by his side.

Right now.

She hesitates, though. Unsure of what's stopping her, till a voice beside her she realizes is Will's accompanied by the gentlest of shoves urges her forward.

"Go on."

\- - - - 

Al's seen everything in his career. Witnessed horrors and seen the aftermath. If he's being real, he's also been responsible for and party to some of the worst sides of humanity, no matter how he or anyone would try to mitigate what they did.

He's seen and experienced the lowest moments that a man, no scratch that, a _father_ can bear. Nothing could be lower than losing your own child. Nothing.

Al wonders if losing her son was the moment Marcie changed forever. Or was the groundwork already laid long before?

He's watching her now, though she's unaware that he is. There's no sign of loss of composure. No sign of the skittish woman they all thought she was. She's utterly calm, and if she is acting, someone should call the Oscars Best Actress nominations committee and hand it straight to her. They have no reason to hold her. She came here voluntarily anyway, and she's not asked for a lawyer, she's not asked to leave. It's crystal clear why she's here. Knowing it doesn't make it easier. They just have to hope she crumbles before she gets bored, before she thinks the coast is clear and the distraction time has been long enough.

"We got a call from Med."

Al looks toward Voight, breathing in and holding his breath, hoping that today won't be another day they lose someone so important to them.

"He's gonna be okay."

Al smiles, sending a thankful prayer up to a god he long since stopped believing in and then nods toward the woman he's been staring at the entire time.

"So what do we do with her?"

His oldest friend says nothing for a beat but then smirks, "It's Christmas, let's make her feel welcome," then after a beat, he asks, "When's Kacey Stapleton coming back in?"

"Tomorrow. Atwater and Ruzek took her back, and then I asked Trudy to send a unit over to monitor the place. Make sure no one goes looking for her. Maybe we can get to the bottom of what was on that pod footage that Atwater was looking at starting with her," Al finishes, pointing at the woman on the other side of the glass.

Voight nods, falls silent, and they both stare at Marcie who resumes her intense study of fingernails. Quiet for a moment. Until.

"We're going to nail these pricks, Al."

\- - - - 

Jay's hand is warm. Warmer than it was even thirty minutes ago. He looks peaceful. Still too pale. But there's a small amount of pink in cheeks. Almost like someone stood at the end of the bed with a paintbrush and flicked some onto his cheeks, forgetting to take it off. It looks so out of place against the rest of his pallor.

Hailey's not sure how long she's been here now. As she looks toward the nurses' station, she can see Christmas greetings and hugs being exchanged. Changeover time.

It's such a contrast to the quiet intensity when each of those members of staff is with every single person being looked after. The same staff doing the hugging, laughing and chattering loudly who do their utmost to save Jay's life and all the other patients, or at least doing what they can to give them that chance.

Gradually, they've removed the equipment that's helped Jay recover to this point where it's only minimal now. A nasal cannula, IV, and the cardiac monitor are all that remain.

Hailey knows Jay's hand is warm now and warmer still than it was before because she's holding it. Gently rubbing circular motions with her finger. As much for her, she recognizes as it is for Jay.

The worst has happened. Everything Hailey feared with this case came true. Lightning struck twice. Except Jay's breathing. Improving. She suspects she'll need to remind herself of this regularly. Not just a fact, more like a miracle is how it feels. More importantly, she'll need to remind Jay of it in weeks to come.

"The things a man does to get out of Christmas dinner with me," she quips toward the bed, her voice sounding loud in the room. It's just the two of them, the presence of a nurse or doctor, lessening in its frequency as time's gone on and Jay's condition has improved.

He doesn't respond, gives no sign of hearing, but the constant rise and fall of his chest is enough to make her smile.

"I'm glad he wouldn't have been alone."

Hailey looks up toward the voice, releasing her hold on Jay's hand as Will steps into the room from the doorway, pulls up a chair and drags it next to Hailey. He'd been here from time to time since Hailey's been with Jay. Still ostensibly on shift, stubbornly refusing Dr Cain and anyone in his proximity's suggestion that he stay with his brother.

He sits down on the chair, "The man hates Christmas though, or at least he has done since mom died and when he got home from Afghanistan."

"Does Jay's dad know that he's here?"

"No. Part of the reason I stayed on shift was distraction from worrying but also so I could avoid dealing with the fact I should call him or go see him and tell him, even if he chose not to come or even if he started complaining about Jay's career choice instead of being concerned about his youngest kid."

Will looks down, shakes his head, then holds up a hand, looking at Hailey and murmurs, "Sorry. You didn't need to know any of that."

Hailey almost tells Will that she knows a little of their history, but it feels like a kind of betrayal. Everything they told each other undercover is between them. Even if it's the truth, even if it's their reality.

"Families, huh?" She gives him a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah," he agrees then adds, "Hey, you ate anything today?."

Without waiting for a reply, he continues, "Go eat, I think sleeping beauty here won't be waking up for a little while. Go eat, get a coffee at least. I'll call you if he does."

Hailey looks at Jay, reluctant to leave but her stomach is begging for food, her exhaustion requires caffeine to lessen it and she needs to know what's going on back at the district.

"You promise you'll call? I gave you my number, right?"

"I promise and yes you did. Go. He'll be okay."

Hailey stands up, walking to the doorway before her heart can overrule her head.

\- - - - 

The coffee is strong and reviving and the small amount of turkey she managed will sustain her till tomorrow. She's in the corridor near to where Jay is when she unlocks her phone and dials the number. Al answers within 3 rings.

"Hey, how's he doing?"

"Better. He's getting better all the time."

"That's great. How about you? How you holding up?"

She answers without thinking, "Tired," frowning at her honesty, she wonders for a second if she said it aloud but the quiet hum of concern from Al tells her she did so she quickly corrects herself, "Only a little tired though and I just had some coffee. Listen, has she said anything?"

Al waits a beat before responding and when he does, he jumps past the mention of Hailey's tiredness straight to Hailey's question and if she could reach into the phone and hug him, she would.

"Nothing. We're rolling out the welcome mat right now. We think she's trying to be a distraction. Everyone's reaching out to their CI's and Atwater's meeting one right about now. We'll get them."

"I should try my luck with her tomorrow."

"Think that's a good idea?"

"Can you think of a better idea if we get nothing from the CI's? Did Kacey tell us anything yet?"

"Tomorrow. We got patrols doing regular sweeps past to make sure nothing happens."

"Okay, and then I'll come tomorrow. Talk to her."

"And sleep tonight?"

Hailey walks toward the door to where Jay is and smiles into the handset, "Something like that."

"When he wakes up tell him to get well and I'll make sure we got plenty of coffee ready for you."

It comes from nowhere, the feeling of emotion. So hard that Hailey has to bite her lip to stop herself from crumbling. Coffee, that's all it took. Coffee, a thermos and the casual intimacy of it all.

And now she's here on Christmas Day while Jay's on the first day of who knows how many days he'll need to recover from not just what they did to him in the hours he was gone, but also the damage of months of bringing back memories he's been forced to relive.

"Hailey?"

Al sounds worried, and she attempts a laugh that likely does more harm than good in convincing Al that she's okay, so she tries harder with her reassurance with words.

"I'll tell him, and thanks Al. See you tomorrow," then as an afterthought, too much of an afterthought but at least it comes to her today when it's okay to wonder, "I hope you're okay today too, you know with-."

She doesn't finish her sentence. Doesn't need to, and Al's quiet 'thank you' speaks volumes for what he doesn't say too.

\- - - - 

"So yeah, he was the most annoying little brother," Will finishes the story with an eye roll but a look towards his brother that's filled with love.

"I feel that. I think little brothers are always annoying."

Will tilts his head to one side, "Oh yeah, you got a younger one too?"

"One older, one younger. Annoying as hell but wouldn't swap 'em for anything."

"I hear ya. Jay and I would butt heads constantly. Who am I kidding? We still do but you know I think we both turned out okay," he waits a beat and then quietly, carefully asks, "Anyway, what were you two planning on doing for Christmas?"

Hailey thinks of the turkey she'd bought and the time she'd planned to spend after she'd gotten home from the bar and through the night on preparing it and all the extras. Wanting it to be a surprise for Jay.

She shrugs, returning Will's gaze, "Just a bag of potato chips or two and some cupcakes and lots and I mean lots of wine."

Will says nothing, just smiles before he looks away, back to Jay.

"You know, there's no way he'd spend Christmas with just anybody. Not after, well, everything. Not even just because he's undercover and the other prospect is being alone. Trust me, he's not one to shy away from that."

Will reaches out a hand toward Jay then pulls it away, his hand wavering in mid-air.

"So I figure you're good for him as a partner and someone he trusts, so thank you for that. Thank you for being there when I couldn't."

Hailey protests, "But he's here? I didn't-."

"Hurt him?" Will cuts in, finishing for her, though they both know that's not what she was going to say, "Because no, you didn't do this to him. Far from it, I can tell you care and he needs that. He deserves that."

Hailey nods in agreement to that at least, "And you? What were you going to do aside from being here?"

"Stay here till someone kicked me out the door and then I'd drive to our dad's place and I'd miss the arguments they'd both have with me the mediator and fill the void with my attempt at driving him crazy and it still wouldn't be enough," he chokes out a laugh, "How bad has it gotta be and how dysfunctional is a family when being at your brother's bedside in hospital is preferable to being with your old man on Christmas day?"

Hailey reaches out to Will, to the hand that's still wavering above the bed, close to Jay but still not touching him, and lowers it towards Jay, squeezing it before she releases it.

"Trust me, it's not that unusual."

"Gotcha," Will nods, eyebrows raised in recognition for a moment, then murmuring his thanks before he lays his hand on top of the blanket and Jay's leg underneath at last.

\- - - - 

"We'll have to close down the undercover apartments," Al comments.

"We'll do that tomorrow. I was wondering if Hailey's cover was still live, but from what Marcie said earlier, it's not. Maybe if Hailey's back from med, it'll be a distraction from Marcie,"

Al smirks, "Yeah, good luck with that."

Voight's about to reply when there's a rap of knuckles on the door to Voight's office and Voight beckons Trudy in. She's holding an empty plate and wearing an unimpressed expression.

"We holding her?" She gestures with one hand towards the interview rooms.

"No. She's free to go until we get something. We don't have probable cause yet, though we're trying."

"I thought she was free to go, but she just asked for a pillow and a blanket. Like we're a hotel. Offered her a bed downstairs and even said I thought she was free to go and she looked at me like I was crazy."

"She's stalling," Al points out, even though he knows the others know it.

Voight points towards the bottle on the desk in front of him and the two glasses, "You want one?"

"Yes, but not here. I'm off in officially," she glances at her watch, "well, an hour ago, but Firehouse 51 caught a fire. He messaged me ten minutes ago and he'll be here in a little while and we can go celebrate Christmas more particularly now that Jay's gonna make it?" Trudy frowns, "That's right, isn't it? He's going to make it?"

"He's gonna make it," Al confirms.

"Good, you need me to send someone upstairs to keep an eye on her or is this an all night thing for you both?" she points towards the bottle and glasses.

"No need to send anyone up," Voight replies.

"Ok and when you that bottle runs dry, if you're out of coffee then I have a stash under the counter."

Al stands up, approaching Trudy and ushering her out, "Go and enjoy what's left of today with your husband."

She looks ready to reply, ready to say something else, but shakes her head and turns away, walking towards the stairs and calling out, "Just don't forget the coffee."

\- - - - 

Will left a couple of hours ago. To see Pat Halstead, promising he'd be back before Christmas Day was over. He'd better hurry, as it's ten minutes till tomorrow comes. 

Hailey shuts her eyes briefly. Her fingertips continuing their circular motion on Jay's hand. She thinks maybe she fell asleep as there's an unexpected movement that's like when you fall asleep and startle awake suddenly but then she opens her eyes and it happens again and she looks at Jay's hand, pulling her own away and then looks at his face. Hears the slight moan, sees the way his eyelids twitch, and she stands up, leaning over the bed and stroking his hair, avoiding the bits where bandages and dressings form like patchwork around his hairline and forehead.

"Jay, it's okay. You're okay."

She hears the footsteps behind her, a nurse, somehow they always know when something's changed even without alarms sounding or Hailey calling for them.

Hailey focuses on Jay. The distressed sound he makes, and she continues her mantra.

"It's okay, you're safe. It's me, Hailey. You're going to be okay. Open your eyes, Jay."

The nurse stands on the other side of the bed, checking his vitals and eyeing the monitor, then nodding at Hailey and mouthing, 'Keep going."

She's not sure how long it is later that she hears another set of footsteps and the nurse moves out the way, Will taking her place. He looks exhausted, his eyes red. The time at Halstead Senior's house taking its toll. But then Will's lips curve upwards and tears fall freely down his cheeks, and Hailey follows his gaze back to Jay. Jay who tops them all in looking exhausted as his eyes open slowly, blinking at the brightness in the room.

It could be past midnight now, likely is so Christmas was yesterday, which means at least the events are firmly in the past even if the effects aren't.

That fact and Jay's eyes, even surrounded by bruising and the signs of damage that cover his features and the frown that's firmly planted on his face, are the best things Hailey's known or seen. The best and only present she would have asked for.

"Merry the day after Christmas, Jay."


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FFnet seems to be having a bit of trouble at the moment so I'm posting at similar times on here too. (another chapter coming tonight as well)
> 
> This chapter comes with lots of info but first, angst! I hope it's okay. (p.s. a bit of swearing)

The instinctive feeling of relief that he's still alive lasts for thirty minutes, if that for Jay. It's nothing new. It had been similar the time he woke up in the hospital after Afghanistan.

It lasted longer though, perhaps the medicine had been stronger. Perhaps it was because he hadn't yet had the years to be weighed down by the memories or the nightmares. Blissfully unaware of what was to come.

This time he's nowhere near as lucky. He's still as weighed down by the baggage he had before. Add to that the dull ache that's linked to the concussion, the feeling of exhaustion, and his body being used as a punching bag for hours.

Oh, and that every time he shuts his eyes, he's assailed by memories. Fragments of noise and images that he can't distinguish between. Who was it last time he shut his eyes, who will it be next?

While some memories remain strong, other memories he thinks are just as important stay below the surface, frustratingly out of reach.

The doctor, he can't remember his name, had been positive and on the face of it, Jay's lucky. Some kind of Christmas miracle he's alive at all.

Trouble is, the way Hailey and Will have been looking at him and more than that, the way they've been looking at each other like Jay's lost the power of sight and won't see them do just that. It's like Jay's made of glass, and one wrong word or move and it'll come crashing down.

Jay's so miserable he makes it come crashing down all by himself.

Will snaps first. Muttering under his breath words Jay knows he doesn't mean and will beat himself up about for days, weeks. They'll talk about it one day when they're both in their eighties.

Hailey watches him go as Jay watches her. Her side profile that's got a smudge of grey underneath her eyes, her hair in a ponytail and her shoulders slumped. She's what he needs to pull himself from this.

It's so very Jay Halstead of him to screw it up in just one sentence.

"The undercover's over Hailey, you can stop pretending to care now. Leave me alone."

She faces him full on, standing up and narrows her eyes, her mouth wide open before her lips move though no sound comes out.

"You'd never get the promotion or good assignment you need by fucking me, anyway. Just move on."

Ever wanted to reach inside your own mouth or reach out to capture words you say because you're hurting and they feel right in that moment but as soon as they're spoken they're too much and you don't even need to look at the person to realize they were so wrong?

That exact thought occurs to Jay as Hailey's eyes widen and she chokes out a noise that's halfway between a sob and a laugh that means all those years he's tried to be everything but Pat Halstead's son just went to waste over the last minute.

"This isn't you, rest Jay. Please rest."

The tiny undamaged part of Jay wonders at how she keeps her cool as she pulls on her coat and walks out without looking at him again. That same part of him thinks again of how he's spent the entirety of his adult life trying to not become a carbon copy of his dad, only for it to fail today.

Trouble is, he's not sure he cares enough as he stares towards the door Hailey just walked through then shakes his head and shuts his eyes.

For all of 2 seconds before everything crashes in on him again.

\- - - -

Hailey ignores Platt's query over Jay's health as she enters the 21st, scanning her finger at the gate and running up the stairs into the bullpen.

She only has one destination in mind, turning right as she steps into the bullpen and right again into the corridor near to the interview rooms.

"Hailey?"

She stops when Al's calls her name but only long enough to turn slightly and point towards the room. "Is she still here?"

Al narrows his eyes. That's enough of an answer and Hailey nods, turning away then taking a left turn to reach the room, throwing the door open as she does. Marcie flinches. It's satisfying for all of a second.

Marcie's sat on the bench, alongside a blanket and a single pillow. Hailey stands in front of her.

"Why the hell are you protecting those men? You realize they wouldn't be doing the same for you?"

Marcie purses her lips, looking up at Hailey, and then yawns. Not because she's tired, Hailey knows this immediately. It's a yawn to signal her boredom. Her disdain.

"The other cop tried that too. Like it mattered to me. Thought you were different, Paula." The smile that accompanies her use of Hailey's undercover name isn't the one Hailey's used to.

"Detective Upton," she counters, "you call me Detective Upton."

Marcie's smile grows wider, and it takes all of Hailey's self-control to not wipe it off her face with her own fist, and she turns away toward the door where Voight is watching her. She nods at him, turns back, stepping closer to Marcie now, leaning into her till their faces are almost close enough to touch.

"And I promise you that if you carry on like this, it won't just be the people you're protecting who'll go down, it'll be you too. If you're not scared of me or scared of what I will do to you for any involvement you've had in my partner being in hospital then you underestimate me and I really wouldn't do that if I were you, okay?"

Hailey straightens, not taking her eyes off the older woman who for the first time since Hailey came in this room swallows and looks away then clearing her throat, she looks past Hailey toward Voight.

"I think I'd like to leave."

Voight nods, and Hailey moves to follow him but stops, turning one last time.

"You know, I think it's sad that you're here. I still feel sorry for you, Marcie. That you'd rather be here in this room protecting those people than spending Christmas day remembering your son or even with the men you're covering for."

She doesn't wait for a reaction, instead she shuts the door behind her and shakes her head as she follows Voight to the corridor.

"We aren't going to let her go are we?"

"We got nothing to hold her on, Hailey and we won't talk about this here, come to my office, there's something I need to show you."

Hailey exhales loudly but does as Voight asked, walking back into the bullpen and stopping beside Voight as he pauses by Kim and Antonio's desks.

"Marcie wants to leave. Get Platt to have someone take her home and you follow them and you keep eyes on her. She makes any move, you tail her. You see any sign of Price or Barnet or anyone connected with this entire case, you move and call for back up."

Kim stands up. "Got it, sarge." Turning round to Antonio, she says, "I'll go ask Trudy and meet you in the parking lot."

Antonio nods, picking up his jacket as Voight jerks his head toward Hailey and she follows him to his office, Al behind her handing a file to Voight which he takes and pulls out a series of photographs laying them on his desk and gesturing to Hailey to come closer and look at them.

Hailey looks down, picking up one of the pictures. She recognizes the location. It's outside Flynn's home and there's a figure pictured entering the home. She lays the first picture down and scans the others, seeing nothing concrete or startling until her attention turns to the final two.

The figure is holding something in the penultimate one and then in the last image; he looks toward where the shot was taken. It's startlingly clear compared with all the others.

"Barnet? What the hell was he doing at Flynn's place?" She looks from Olinsky to Voight. "Did we get anything on the plates? A better image? And why aren't we out there tearing up the streets looking for him?"

"We didn't get anything conclusive on the plates, no and yeah we are. We're talking to CI's. Every cop in Chicago knows who we're looking for, but it's like they disappeared into thin air. We're trying to get warrants on the bars that Barnet and Price have been delivering to and getting others to deliver coke to for all this time, but it ain't gonna fly right now, we need more."

Hailey howls with frustration. It's not like the usual Hailey but then these aren't usual times.

"Jay is in hospital. Why are you suddenly so by the book?"

Al answers easily, "Because we want to do this right so these guys when we get to them and we will get to them, they won't be able to use these expensive lawyers to get away with it. We're close."

"We've been saying that for weeks," Hailey points out.

"Ruzek and Atwater are coming back with Kacey. We'll find out more from her," Voight says.

"Okay. Good, I want to talk to her."

Voight shakes his head. "No, the undercover apartments need to be closed down. You and Al need to do that." At Hailey's noise of protest, Voight purses his lips. "You can do that or you can go home and get some sleep. Hailey, you won't miss a thing. If there's something one of us knows or finds out, everyone will find out. For now, though, I need you and Al to go do that."

Hailey looks between both men. Trying to see if there's any sign that she can persuade them otherwise. She knows a lost cause though, so her shoulders slump in resignation and she looks at Al.

"We should go."

\- - - -

"Does dad know I'm here?"

Will turns away quickly from the window. A look of relief framing his features at the mere fact that Jay's spoken to him. He smiles hesitantly before a more solemn expression takes over.

"No. I figured you wouldn't want me to and honestly I didn't want to get into the old familiar argument with him about our career choices when I wasn't even sure when my little brother would wake up."

Jay doesn't reply. A quiet nod and then resumes his own focus on the wall. The silence is heavy once again in the room till Will breaks it.

"Uh, Dr Cain says you may be able to leave tomorrow. They just want to make sure there's no sign of withdrawal from the GHB and the concussion is healing as it should. That's good news."

"Technically, I could leave right now. Against medical advice, right?"

"But you wouldn't because you're not dumb, right?"

Jay switches from his intense scrutiny of the wall to fire a glare at his brother, shaking his head with disdain.

"Not that it's any business of yours."

"I'm your brother, Jay and given that you won't even talk to dad these days, I'm your next of kin so yeah it's business of mine and it would've been even more of my business if we hadn't been so lucky and you'd died before you got here."

Jay makes a scoffing noise, and his tone is dripping with sarcasm. "Oh yeah, look at me. I'm real lucky."

"Didn't say that, Jay. And I understand what all this is, you're spoiling to fight, so it distracts from you not wanting to let any of us in on what you went through. I get it."

Will's using his doctor's voice, oh so reasonable and oh so like a red rag to the bull that is Jay right now. Will's accurate as hell, of course. Jay knows that, but there's no way he's admitting to anyone, even himself fully right now, so he resorts to making sure he drives his brother away, like he drove Hailey away before.

"Surprised you've not run away to Africa again or some place a million miles away. That's what you do, right? As soon as things get tough."

"Fuck you. Guess what Jay, you don't hold a monopoly on all of this. I get that you're lashing out because you're hurting it and this feels safest because we keep coming back when you're being silent so you want to try the patented Pat Halstead method but that ain't gonna work out. Still screw you for bringing up the past like that."

Jay's aware of Will's stare, he doesn't have to look at his brother to know that his eyes will well with tears of frustration and that he's concerned for Jay and that's all this is about.

It's just that Jay can't handle that, he's too close to the edge as it is without admitting it and making it all feel a thousand times more real.

He hears Will's footsteps and then all he hears is his own breathing, his own thoughts and he turns his head slightly, sees Dr Charles places his hand on Will's shoulder and look toward Jay and Jay should flick his attention back to the wall but doesn't, instead tuning out and every sense he can for as long as possible.

It's better that way.

\- - - -

Kevin leads the way into the bullpen, they came up the back route. Less public.

Voight raises an eyebrow at him as he holds the door open. "All okay? No sign of unwelcome visitors or observers?"

"No problems, Sarge." He gestures behind him. "Kacey wasn't alone though."

"Oh?"

Kacey passes Kevin and smiles hesitantly at Voight and Al behind him, not that either man notices as their attention swiftly diverts to the person following her.

Tall. Imposing.

"Hey gentlemen, Steven Flynn," he greets Voight and Al and smiles grimly. "Me and Kace, we got a lot to tell you, but first how's Halstead doing?"

"He's recovering," Voight answers and both Flynn and Kacey smile. Relief clear on their faces. "Now, shall we?" Voight gestures toward his office.

5 minutes later and they're sitting in the office. Kevin leaning against the wall and Voight in his chair while Adam sits on the other side of Voight and Kacey and Flynn sit next to each other facing the 3 men.

"Kacey and I have known each other for years. Same circles. She and Eddie, they knew my boy well. I don't think anyone was as close to Kacey as Brian was, but still David was a part of that life."

Kacey nods, her hands relaxing around the coffee mug, and looks from Kevin to Voight.

"Brian was a real one. Still older than me, but not as old as Eddie was. The slight difference in age was all the difference, and he didn't baby me like Eddie did. David, he was quiet, often in the shadows. Still new to it all by the time I went off the reservation."

"What happened? They found blood, but they never matched it to anyone." Voight asks.

"The Barnet effect." Kacey frowns. "Things were tough for Brian before then, but it was okay because I took care of him, Steve too. Then Barnet was released from prison. He noticed me the first night he came to the bar and Brian noticed him notice me. It came to a head one night in the stockroom and Brian got me out of there. It was his idea to have me vanish, actually. Eddie had no clue. He used to search for me everywhere."

"Where were you all this time?" Adam inquires.

"Iowa. Or at least I was until I heard about Brian. I had to watch from a distance at his funeral. Had to watch Marcie play the grieving mom. Jim, the concerned boss. Eddie took it all so hard and I wanted to reach out to him. Bridge the distance between us. Instead, I turned around and walked away."

"Until?"

Kacey exchanges a glance with Flynn, who smiles encouragingly, and she looks back to Voight, answering his question. "I would leave it till late in the evening on what would have been his birthday and at Christmas since he died to visit the cemetery where there's a memorial for Brian. Leave a single flower. Just a way to remember him. Steven noticed it in 2016, was curious, and waited around this year for Brian's birthday. I was scared, but also I remembered what he did for Brian. Knew in my heart that I could trust him and he said he would keep me safe. I've been back here since April. Kept considering telling Eddie that I was back. That I was alive. He seemed okay though, living his life with his family then not long after, in June, Steven told me he was missing."

Kacey chews her bottom lip, looking down before she breathes heavily and looks from Voight to Adam and then to Kevin.

"Did Barnet hurt you?" Kevin asks gently.

"No. He didn't get the chance. He may well have left me alone after that we'll never be able to be sure. Anyway, Brian said he was more worried about how Price would react than Barnet."

"I agree with Kacey," Flynn adds, explaining "Despite what you may think with his track record, Peter would have got the message, eventually. It was Jimmy who would've seen Kacey as a threat to everything he'd built. He knew Peter could be his right-hand man, indebted to Jimmy and all. Brian was aware of that. Jimmy realized Brian was aware too."

"You don't think Barnet's involved in this?" Voight leans forward, laying his hands on the desk.

"No. He's involved. He's knee deep in this shit but Kacey wasn't in danger from him after Brian made sure. I don't know if he told you but Halstead, he came to see me."

"Yeah. he did," Voight confirms.

"Good. Well, nothing I told him was false. Or at least most of it wasn't. There were things I think would've changed the course of it. The entire investigation, if I told him about them. Everything I said about Price was correct. Everything I said about the tours of duty kind of mindset Jimmy instilled was correct. I just didn't know the specifics. I wasn't far enough in. I think only Jim and Pete were in on it."

He pauses.

"And Marcie."

Voight exchanges a look with Kevin before looking back at Flynn. "Marcie Townsend? Brian's mother."

"Yeah. Though in name only. The mother part, I mean. I'm sure somewhere in that brain of hers, she loved him. She had a strange way of showing it. You know, sometimes I wonder if we all got it wrong and Marcie is the brains of it all. If I look back I could pretty much pin the change, the real change in Jimmy to when he and Marcie really got friendly."

"Is Marcie hooked on oxy for real?" Voight queries.

Flynn shrugs. "You know, it's hard to be sure. She does have an oxy habit and has since I've known her, which at times looks bad and is bad. She plays on it, though. Has done with every guy that came after Brian wasn't here and before. Brian was the guinea pig, you could say. She was a born actress, a seasoned manipulator. Everyone fell for it, felt sorry for her."

"Even me when I first worked there fell for it," Kacey adds, "She's so good at putting on an act. Brian loved her with all his heart, couldn't see that she didn't feel the same though she pretended to and the crocodile tears after he died. Eddie I think ended up working in the bar to support her after, even though we all knew how she treated Brian and how much he hated Jimmy."

Kacey's expression hardens.

"Honestly, it's hard to pick who's the worst between Jimmy and Marcie, but Jimmy didn't sacrifice his child or stand by and watch as that happened and manipulate the hell out of so many people afterward."

"Did all the guys fall for Marcie's act? Your brother? David? Craig Farmer?"

"Honestly, I can't speak really for after I got out of there. We all had eyes, though. Could see what Marcie's version of parenting was doing to Brian. Still, losing her son, hard not to feel sorry for someone going through that, I guess. She'd just find a way to get her claws in. I guess that happened with people like Craig, just a customer. Soften him a little, make him feel sorry for her, realize he's as fucked up by his experiences in the army as anyone else, put him in touch with Price and it always ended the same."

Voight nods slowly, leaning back into his chair and turning his attention to Flynn.

"Do you know anything about Barnet being at your home? We found blood too, but couldn't trace it. Similar to Kacey's disappearance."

"Yeah, I know about it," Flynn replies, "We set up a laptop, I recorded a video trying to make Pete see sense. Gave him a number to call and well, so far, he hasn't. I guess he's in too deep. As for the blood, well, that was Kacey's idea. We thought it could get your attention and before you ask, it's no one's actual blood, just stage blood."

"It worked and that's good to know about the blood," Adam confirms with a grim smile, then straightening for a moment, he asks. "Hey, so was it one of you two who would contact Detective Upton via a burner phone where you found Halstead? Jay said he thought he recognized the figure once but couldn't confirm who it was?"

Flynn and Kacey share a look loaded with unspoken words before Kacey shrugs and Flynn takes a breath.

"Little from column a, some more from column b like last time and a lot of column c too. You have to understand that initially I wanted to be part of it all. Nail these guys for all they'd done, no matter the consequences. Be as near to the action as I could, but after David, I think they were suspicious that I stuck it out. I was never cut from the same cloth as Marcie or Jimmy. So I had to take a step backward for Helen's safety. Your people being in there made it easier, and I had nothing I could tell you guys that would've been useful more than I did."

Flynn rubs at his chin tiredly. "I had no way to understand what they were doing with the chips, for example. I think that all came because Jimmy was a gadget guy, knew people who knew other people who used that shit or knew how to use it. Obsessed with how to outwit the enemy. More money than sense, except that the whole thing worked. They made one mistake though, they kept me included in messages. Messages with enough information about the plans they had. Encrypted messages so I think they forgot I was part of the chain. They obviously thought I wasn't part of it and no one else was dying on my watch, not when I felt for the first time there was a chance of justice."

"You said a lot of column C?" Kevin queries.

Flynn smiles, nodding, "We can trust you, right? I feel like we can, but still, it doesn't hurt to ask, right?"

Voight leans forward again. "Yes, you can."

"Okay so early hours of the morning tomorrow. We name a place, you be there. Your Detective Upton too, and we may have a proposition, a way for things to be finalized."

"Okay," Voight agrees after a moment of consideration, "Tell us when and where and we'll be there."

\- - - -

Hailey and Al make quick work of closing down Hailey's undercover apartment.

After emptying the fridge, Hailey knocks on the door of the apartment below to offer the food that's still edible. The food she and Jay should have enjoyed.

Everything else fits into a holdall.

It's much the same at Jay's though the smell of the apartment, the smell of Jay's clothes and his cologne in particular as Hailey puts them in the bag Jay had placed in the corner of the bedroom stills Hailey for a second before she pulls herself from the brink of losing her control.

Al's waiting for her, sitting on the couch when she walks back into the living area.

"No sign of anyone coming in and looking around at least." He observes.

"That's something I guess." Hailey's eyes scan the apartment, falling on the kitchen area and a plastic bag on the counter.

Al's not looking at her, his eyes looking toward the window so Hailey moves over to where the bag is, dropping the clothes bag next to it. Hailey opens the plastic bag, her eyes widening as she sees the contents, dropping the clothes bag next to it on the counter.

Decorations, including tinsel and baubles. Party favors and then, as she reaches down to the bottom, she feels and holds up the jar, a luxury cranberry sauce. She smiles. When Jay recovers which he will, they'll use all this. None of it will go to waste.

She's about to place the plastic bag into the clothes bag when she sees the other item. It's a roll of something in gift wrap, like a poster or a scroll you'd receive when you graduate. She glances toward Al but he's not paying any attention to her so she lifts the item, there's a label on it which she turns over.

The message is handwritten:

Just a little something to say thanks for making me happy it's Christmas for the first time in a long time x

Hailey screws her eyes shut, a quiet exhale escaping her as her free hand grips the counter before she reopens them and looks again. She didn't imagine it. She looks toward Al once more, but he's still not looking.

Even if he knows and even if he looked, which she imagines he does and he did, she's immeasurably grateful that he's not intruding. Not asking questions. Yet at least.

A message tone interrupts her thoughts, and she sees Al reach into his jacket, pulling out his phone, reading the contents then looking at her, holding up the phone as he does.

"Voight. He wants us back at the 21st." Al's expression softens enough that it's clear he'd definitely looked in the bag, "You okay to go or you need a minute?"

She tries a smile, but it's harder than she thought. Just about managing a nod instead. For the second time in just a couple of days, she wants to hug Al when he doesn't question it and picks up the clothes bag and leads the way to the door, leaving Hailey to pick up the plastic bag, take one long look around, breathe in the cologne for a couple more seconds and follow him outside.

\- - - -

Daniel Charles stares out the window between the small gap in the blinds that Halstead had requested be shut earlier. It's snowing now. The sky white as far as the eye can see, promising that the rest of the day and the streets of Chicago will be filled with snow.

Still looking out the windows, he talks.

"The trouble with coping is that it becomes habitual and when you're used to being the protector. The mediator. The one who'll get into the middle of the fray and then slide quietly into the sidelines when it's over, no matter how it ends or the cost to you? You only realise it's bad when it manifests in other ways you can just dismiss as stress. Everyone gets stress at some point in their lives, right?"

Charles half turns.

"Except certain things happen again. Could be the backfire of a gun. It could be a smell or a piece of music which has you speed walking away from the danger. Or a dream that transports you back to a place you pushed so far down that the dreamworld or perhaps it's more like a hellscape and it's just about the only place still left to get to you."

He fully turns.

"Maybe it's a difficult family relationship that's no one's fault or it once was and you're an adult now. And it's painfully clear how loaded the odds were against you and it hurts you to be resentful but why shouldn't you be? Or it's someone you love leaving without saying goodbye or a tragic incident that could overwhelm you if you let it so you don't, you find a distraction but that distraction takes you to the place you never wanted to be again where the tragic incident becomes a reminder of that place."

Charles takes a step away from the window.

"Or it's not one of those things, perhaps it's several or what if it's all of it and you tell yourself that you'll ignore it and eventually your body resumes its avoidance state till next time except next time comes faster each time until one day you realize it was only one hour ago since the last trigger and you seek help and for once it's from a person and not through trying to save someone to make it easier but it's too late and you wish you listened sooner?"

Charles sits in the chair beside Jay's bed.

"But somehow you get lucky though that's debatable, and you got offered the chance to understand and listen when some old guy talked about ptsd and how anyone can experience it and live with it and even prosper despite its presence if only they ask for help. That's all, just ask for help."

He stands up, pushing the chair back.

"By the way, the 'you' and 'your' in this story could be anyone."

He reaches the end of the bed.

"And you can pretend to be asleep for so long, but the way you breathe when you're asleep in contrast to being awake always gives a guy away. Just know that the guy only has to ask and really needs to understand that there's an army of people behind him if he'd just ask. That's all. The guy being you, Jay, no one else this time, but you."

Jay waits thirty seconds before he opens his eyes. Confident that the footsteps he'd heard had taken the older man out of his room. Still, he checks this left as he does that Charles is no longer there.

Choking out a strangled tear when he's sure he isn't. His right hand shakily moves to cover his eyes as the tears fall freely and he just lies there. Recounting every word Dr Charles had said. Every one of them refusing to vacate his thoughts, and maybe for once that's a good thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was okay. 3 more chapters to go! Let me know what you thought if you like x


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cross posted on here and ffnet which appears to be pretty broken right now.
> 
> Anyway, onwards A long chapter coming up. I hope as always this chapter is okay. Thank you for sticking with this story, I'm so grateful.

"We have any idea what they want to meet for?" Hailey asks as she holds a glass of water and looks at the board that's now filled with names, information and faces. Jay's on there now too, though relief fills every part of Hailey that he's not on the same row of faces as those who died.

"Something or someone we've not thought of I guess."

Hailey's points to the face of Anthony Hunt. "Or someone we gave up on?"

"Could be," Voight agrees.

Hailey turns back to the board and her eyes settle on Marcie and she shakes her head as she turns to face Al and Voight. "Marcie really played us, right? The sweet grieving mom turned addict, and she's been part of it all the way through?"

"She had enough practice over the years by the sounds of it. Don't beat yourself up over it," Al instructs, his words warm.

Hailey gives him an unconvinced look. "I'm thinking about how Jay'll react to all this particularly Marcie too. He really believed her. Hell, I did and no one at the bar. Not even that guy Terry indicated that she was anything other than the person she portrayed herself as. Hey, I could talk to Terry, find out more?"

"Is the bar even open?" Al points out.

"Good point," Hailey acknowledges.

"There's a bunch of guys who'll be lost without that bar," Voight muses.

"Ah man, if I know vets, they're resourceful and they'll find somewhere else and forget all about that place soon enough as long as the spirits and the beer taste the same." Al says.

"That's true," Hailey agrees before returning to the earlier subject, "So do we still have eyes on Marcie, Sarge?"

"We do. Burgess and Dawson are there now."

"Okay, so what time's the meet?"

"2.30am. They'll let us know a location at 2am."

"You trust them?" Al questions.

Voight shrugs. "Do we have any choice? Maybe someone really useful will be there, someone like Hunt. or it's a bluff and everyone's in on it and we'll have to go the long way round. Get warrants for every single bar on the route and hope we get the coke and put pressure on every single bar owner until one of them flips. If this works, we just get there faster."

Hailey glances one more time at the board, walks to her desk, pulling the chair out, ready to make calls, perhaps prepare warrants, but Voight approaches her desk and she follows his hand which points toward the stairs.

"Go home. Tomorrow could be another long day. Atwater and Ruzek are doing the same. After that it'll be Kim and Antonio's time for rest. We're a man down so we need to conserve our energy and if something happens, we'll react fast, but right now the smarter thing is to rest while we can."

"Sarge?" Hailey protests, "There's so much I can get on with."

"Nothing that won't wait, Hank's right," Al says from behind his own desk.

"And what about you two?"

"Don't worry about us, just go."

\- - - -

It had been easy to comply when Hailey thought of Jay and that she could see him again.

She pulls off the beanie as she steps into his room. It's dark out now and dark in Jay's room with the lights turned off and the blind pulled down. Only the light of the nurses' station and lights in other patients' rooms provide any light in the room.

There's a tray of untouched food on the trolley over Jay's bed. He's sitting up, his fingers playing with the material of the blanket. He's wide awake but doesn't acknowledge Hailey's arrival.

Even in the earliest days of them being partners, it wasn't this awkward. She didn't get the sense she was intruding this much. She reasons that it's not even a full day since he woke up.

She still tries, though.

"Not hungry?" She points toward the plate and regrets it almost immediately when Jay flashes her a look that could be best described as withering.

He looks away and Hailey observes him as best as she can in the small amount of light. The dark circles under his eyes and the bruising and redness around his eyes. There's bruising around his neck too, which looks painful and tender to the touch.

At least there's no sign of marks around his wrists. That speaks for something else though, how pliant he must have been. The drugs, no doubt.

Everything on the surface looks bad enough, and that doesn't even account for most of the injuries or the psychological damage inflicted on him.

"We, um, we may be getting somewhere. There's a meeting in the early hours. It could be good news, Jay."

He glances at her then, his mouth opening for a fraction of a second, a flicker of hope in his eyes before he lowers them, turning his head and his entire body away from her.

"Thanks for coming."

Hailey thinks she should be grateful he said anything, and that it wasn't just him snapping at her.

"I could stay in case you need to talk? Or so you're not alone?"

'So I'm not alone too' goes unsaid and Jay doesn't pick up on it as he speaks one more time.

"Please, would you close the door on your way out?"

\- - - -

Hailey's place is cold when she sets foot inside. First time in what feels like a century ago since she was last here. She turns the heating on, keeping her coat on til it gets warmer.

She lays the keys on the kitchen counter, eyes looking toward the bottle of whisky. But that would be a big mistake given she's got to be out of here again and meeting up with the others in the early hours.

She could sleep except she likely wouldn't be able to, not without the aforementioned whisky. Instead, she peers down at the bags in her hand, tells herself not to look. It'll do tomorrow or in several days when all this is all over, perhaps?

She's walking into the living room and turning on a single lamp, sitting down on the couch and opening the clothes bag before she can stop herself. Opening and then reaching into the plastic bag, shutting her eyes as she feels for the item she's looking for.

She places it on top of the coffee table and stares at it. Her hands shake slightly as she turns over the tag again and rereads the words.

It's wrong doing this right now. She should wait until Jay's here or just give it back to him when he's better, the day she'll leave or the last day they'll be partners in case that becomes the better option. Walking away before the worst happens.

_We were just undercover_

Those memories come back. Whatever the gift is, it's merely a token of that time. Even if Jay recovers fully, it won't be the same or can't be. Hailey's lost too much already once before to relive it and run the risk again of lightning striking another time and Jay not being as lucky next time around.

She drags her hand across her face, tells herself she won't open it even as she picks it up and snatches at the ribbon and tears off the paper.

Unfurls the gift that she realizes is a map. A map that's undamaged though old. It falls to the floor when her hands fly to her mouth.

_We were just undercover_

Sounds a little hollow when she stares down at it moments later, sees the lettering and Ikaria in an old typeface across the top of the map.

"You can stay on my island, Jay."

The words and every part of that night comes back to her all at once alongside the reality of tonight and the past couple of days.

Just undercover maybe, but what if it's more? Correction. Was more.

She's tired suddenly, that's all the tears are about. Even as they grow louder in the quietness of her home. Tiredness and the reality she's facing up to quickly, more quickly than she could ever have imagined, losing grip of something she never even thought she had a hold of, even slightly, in the first place.

_Just undercover, that's all it was._

\- - - -

At least the snow isn't falling anymore when they arrive at the meeting place. They'd shared a look of surprise when the location was sent to them.

The same place Hailey, Jay, Al and Voight had met before while Hailey and Jay were under. There's a strong feeling in Hailey that it's a deliberate choice on Flynn's part, and she's not sure what to make of it.

Somehow Hailey had gotten some sleep. A superhuman effort to push the last couple of days and Jay, or at least her feelings about Jay behind her. Her only focus on the coming minutes and whatever follows with the whole case.

She and Al are in her car. Voight in his truck. Atwater and Ruzek are outside Marcie's place now, while Burgess and Dawson sleep.

At 2.32am, the headlights of a vehicle lighten the darkness for a moment and a dark colored Nissan Rogue parks behind them.

Hailey lifts up her radio as the doors open, her other hand reaching for the door as Al reaches for his door too.

A single figure, followed by another, and one more.

"I got three people, sarge."

"Let's go," comes the reply.

Flynn and Kacey flank the other figure that's dressed all in black with a dark beanie covering their head.

As Voight, Hailey and Al stand together, Flynn nods at them as Kacey squeezes the hand of the third person.

"Good to see you again," Flynn greets them, "Thanks for agreeing to meet. I think and hope you'll find it worthwhile."

Kacey's softly spoken, "It's okay," immediately precedes the figure in the middle, nodding in her direction, squeezing her hand and looking up this time, pushing the hood back and taking off the beanie right as Hailey realizes who it is and only a moment before Voight does too.

"Anthony Hunt?" Voight asks.

The man steps forward, looking behind him toward Kacey, then facing forward again, nodding, his hands clenching and unclenching as he does.

"Yes sir, that's me."

\- - - -

Hunt may be nervous, but he looks well for someone they'd presumed was dead. Less haunted than in the photo they have of him back at the 21st. Less destroyed by everything he'd endured than Jay had described, too.

He's more confident despite the nerves than Hailey expected.

"How's Ryan? I mean-Halstead? I was certain at one point that we'd be able to help him before it got to the stage it did. Each time something went wrong, it felt like we were 2 steps behind."

"It was you as well who would let us know where he was?" Hailey asks.

Hunt shakes his head. "Not every time. Mostly it was Steven. I was still dealing with the aftermath of everything, so all i did was drive the car. Except the last time. We'd tailed Halstead the day he disappeared. Christmas Eve and I tried to speak to him. He saw me though it was too close to one of the bars and instinct got me outta there quick. We got word later that your guy was missing and so we put 2+2 together and for hours, we kept making the wrong answer till we didn't and we found him. Thought he was dead, and we panicked, skipped the burner."

He looks behind him again toward Kacey who mouths, "It's okay." It's enough apparently as he continues.

"You know, for so long I was caught up in the mess and I was convinced there was only one way this was going to end up. Me in a morgue. You know, it took weeks for the red marks around my wrists to fade. Took till this last week, till I could sleep for more than an hour. You know I wasn't sure we could trust Halstead even though Steve said he was solid, so I kept the game going. Acted like Steve was a big of a question mark as Price and Barnet, but Steve and Kacey, they saved my life. You know Steve could've gotten out of the city, followed Helen after they murdered David. Instead, he stuck around for me, got me right. Paid for doctors to come to where I was holed up."

He sounds close to tears. Stuttering between moments of trying to stop himself from losing control.

"I did stuff I'm not proud of during those times. Stood by while other people got the same treatment I ended up getting. I realize I may end up in prison too, or worse, and I've made my peace with that now too. I didn't wanna disappear when I did and I know Steve didn't either but they were getting suspicious, paranoid, spiraling and we figured Halstead could have a better chance if I was out of the picture as well. Hardest thing I've done is to leave a man alone in the middle of something like that. You know, it's the code 'never leave a man behind' but we had to do it."

He breathes deeply, visibly regaining the control he'd been so close to losing.

"Any idea how they made Halstead?" Voight questions.

"A lucky guess?" Flynn suggests, "maybe, but when I was in with them after Halstead went in, they were suspicious, add you too Detective Upton, another newcomer? Let's just say they have a legion of bar owners and bars involved in this shit. It wouldn't take much luck for one of those owners that owes them to recognize one of your people as a cop. Even from the news and that news travels fast."

Hunt nods in agreement.

"So what are we doing here? Why didn't you come to make a statement?" Hailey inquires.

"I'm prepared to do that, but I have a more direct way I think could work. I call Price, tell him I'm going to the police unless he gives me a million bucks and a bag of bricks. Tell him I have people on my side and I show up with Steve and Kacey and get a confession outta them. Add that and my statement and I remember everything, Kacey's statement and all you have from your people and maybe you take a few years off my sentence in return."

"You do this and your life could be in danger from Price's business associates, out on the streets or if you were in County," Al points out, then looking at Kacey and Flynn he adds, "All your lives."

"I almost died a bunch of times already in my life to not be scared by that thought and away from this idea that easy," Hunt argues, "The biggest fear I had was dying, the other fear that damaged vet after damaged vet would follow in my footsteps ending up the same way. This way at least, I do it and take them down with me."

"Are you two both on board with this?" Voight looks between Flynn and Kacey, who nod emphatically.

"You think it's as simple as you say? Price hasn't made the money he has by being dumb, and what happens to Marcie Townsend too?" Hailey asks this time.

Kacey steps forward, so she's next to Hunt again. "I think everything carries a risk, but if there's one thing we've learned about Price, it's that money is king for him, and control too, and if anyone jeopardizes that, he'd want to resolve it and quickly. Marcie's dangerous with him precisely because she knows what he's capable of but without him, she's nothing so isn't it worth a try at least?"

"You go in with a wire. We arrange the meet for some place where they can't block the signal. Me saying that doesn't mean we do this," Voight starts, "We need to talk about this back at the district, but if we go ahead, when do we do it?"

"Make the call around lunchtime today when they're back from the first round of deliveries," Hunt suggests, "This would be the first day back of doing them. There's no way Barnet'll do it alone for long. They'll be feeling it and getting calls about delays. I call them and we meet tonight or this time tomorrow at the latest before they have time to change their minds or skip town."

"Alright, and if we go ahead, how do we contact you?"

A message alert sounds on Voight, Al and Hailey's phones.

"I suggest you look at the message you all received," Flynn urges, "Call us when you decide."

Hailey pulls the phone from her coat pocket and reads the message, "Burner phone?"

Flynn, Hunt and Kacey are already opening the doors of the Nissan when Flynn pauses and shrugs, "Old habits die hard. Hope to hear from you later."

Hailey, Al and Voight watch as the car pulls away, and it's just them.

"What are you thinking, Al?" Voight asks.

Al blows out a breath, "There's a lot I'm not comfortable with but I think if we try the other route, it'll take too long and they'll be in the wind."

"Huh, yeah. Hailey?"

"I think it could work. I didn't like the way Hunt was talking, though. Like this was one last thing to do. Could make him unpredictable. What about you, Sarge?"

Voight's silent for a few moments, slaps his oldest friend's arm and starts walking toward his truck, "I'm gonna make some calls. Head to the ivory tower first thing. We keep our heads on a swivel with Marcie Townsend too. We'll make the call and we do this tonight. You two head back and when Trudy comes in make sure she knows we'll need some units to monitor Marcie's place while it happens?"

"Got it," Al and Hailey agree, walking back to the car as Voight pulls away.

\- - - -

Hailey and Al don't go back to the 21st immediately. It's still early and Platt won't be in for a little while.

Instead, they stop near a 24 hr food truck in a parking lot where Al gets them both a drink and they sit quietly in the car, watching the time pass by.

"How are you holding up?" Al inquires quietly.

Hailey pulls the coffee cup away from her mouth, "I'm okay. Are you?"

"I asked first. Kinda holding out for an honest answer." Al smiles kindly, it's disarming and maybe Hailey just needed the excuse.

"It was difficult being the new girl. Working with Jay and all of you after someone like Lindsay left. And it wasn't only that, it was what happened with the little girl, Morgan, and I could see how badly that affected Jay. Another thing that disconnected him from everyone, never mind the brand new partner he resented. Then David Flynn was killed and I could see he grabbed hold of that life preserver and all it could mean for him. I was wary though till I figured out what it meant to him and I think when I got it and he could see that I understood, it got easier."

"You got closer?"

"That happens when you're the main one that your partner who's undercover liaises with." Hailey points out.

"Hmm."

Hailey raises an eyebrow. "What's the hmm, mean?"

"How about when you went under too?"

"We had to get to know each other better, at least on the surface. We were undercover, Al."

"The message on the gift? That because you were undercover?"

Hailey pulls a face, but Al's already holding his hand up.

"I shouldn't have brought that up. I apologize. I won't tell anyone else, but you know it's okay to admit you got closer. You face danger together as part of the same op and it happens."

"Actually, it happened before." Hailey swallows around the sudden lump in her throat. "Me and this guy worked so closely together and then he disappeared. Garrett, he disappeared, and they never found a body. I vowed to myself that it'd never happen again. Despite that, it just happened, we got close then Jay disappeared, and I was so scared and I keep telling myself those feelings were because we were undercover and even if they weren't, Jay's traumatized now anyway and I don't know what he thought before but now, he-."

"He's traumatized," Al repeats on her behalf, "Traumatized and doesn't know who's on his side. Probably can't sleep and if he does sleep, it's filled with memories which will be dominated by the worst things. I don't need to tell you that though, do I Hailey? Maybe you haven't been through exactly the same thing as him, but those times when sleep won't come till it does and you end up doing everything you can do to stay awake."

Hailey eyes Al.

"Do you ever dream about your daughter and it's a nice dream? Good memories?"

Al stares into the drink he's holding. "Usually they start off good. Buying her first bike and teaching her how to ride it, it always ends badly. I shouldn't complain, at least they feature her."

"I'm sorry, Al."

After a beat, Al shakes his head, a small smile on his face. "You know why you fit in so well in this unit? You deflect like a pro."

Hailey laughs. It feels too loud, but it also feels good, like a release of tension. "Thanks for asking, Al."

"Back at cha. Hey, you mind dropping me off at med on the way back to the 21st?"

"If you're sure?"

"I'm considering starting a scoresheet and ranking who deflects the best. May as well try to get some deflection from Halstead too, right?"

Hailey grins as she starts the engine, handing her coffee cup to Al as she pulls away and nodding in agreement. "Right."

\- - - -

"That kid you killed? The kids you watched die in Afghanistan? Your brothers. They hate you. Fucking cop, arrogant bastard. You thought we wouldn't know how to search the internet or the guys we deal with wouldn't?"

Jay's hearing's been coming and going for hours, but he can hear that every time they say it. He's lost count of how many times they repeat it.

In between the punches. Caught between a high that's followed by a low. Every time they threaten him with something else but it never comes.

Morgan Williams and the press reports. That's what gets him killed in the end? Crazy to think it would end any differently.

There's an explosion of pain and he can hear mortar fire followed by gunshots and the quick boom of an explosion like a bomb. And screaming.

Only when it stops and he realizes his throat is burning does he figure out, it's his own screams.

And a hand shakes his shoulder insistently, so he half turns, looking up and he sees Tabssum, pale and crying, mouthing something he can't make out but he's sure they're right. Price and Barnet, that is, and that the only words from someone even as young as Tabssum could be words of hate. How can it be any different?

He shrugs off the hand but it won't let him go until eventually it does and Jay relaxes into slumber again until an undefined amount of time later when his eyes open and he looks around him, remembering he's in hospital and through the blinds he sees daylight and then he turns his head toward the door and nearly jumps out of his skin.

"Jesus, Al, you're like a cat. How long you been sitting there?"

The older man favors Jay with a grin, then shrugs. "Lost count after ten minutes, how are you doing, kid?"

Ten minutes. Three months. It feels like a lifetime, though the conversation they had before comes spinning back to Jay like it was yesterday.

"I'm okay."

"Let me guess, you're also not a kid? Are we really doing this again?"

Jay opens his mouth to argue, but any thought of it dies on his lips. "Where Hailey, Will and Charles failed, they sent you in as last resort, huh?"

"Dr Charles?" Al's eyebrows raise. "But no, I came because like you I remember that conversation before all this and I get what's happening with you. It's too scary to admit that this was too close for comfort."

"I had it worse in Afghanistan."

"I'm sure you did, but you ever talked to anyone professionally about what happened in Afghanistan, you ever allowed the letters PTSD pass from your own lips? Ever trusted anyone enough to let them in?"

Jay doesn't reply.

"The way I see it if you let it out play out like this? You get discharged tomorrow, maybe. You start talking, but on your terms only. Enough to convince most people, including the shrink who's never met you before, that you're good. Still, you can't sleep. You occasionally relive everything, including the screams, but coffee helps with fighting off the exhaustion. Am i getting warm yet?"

Al pauses and Jay shrinks from his stare.

"Disassociating helps with pushing it down for a while. People who see through that get driven away because you lash out and you end up doing an undercover again, or worse, you walk away. I said it before Jay, no case is worth giving up your sanity for. Being afraid of admitting you need help isn't worth walking away from those who care about you either."

Realization hits Jay like a ton of bricks. "That was your hand before, wasn't it? I kept trying to shrug it off. It wasn't you when I looked over though."

"You just gotta ask for help. I'm here. Your partner, she'd be here in a second if you just asked."

"She okay?" Jay asks.

"She's worried about you. Makes two of us. Three of us if you count your brother, four if you count Charles, a whole damn army if you count everyone who's ready to help."

Jay turns his head toward the window, shuts his eyes, blinking away sudden tears, then he looks back toward Al.

"How's the case?"

Al doesn't comment on the change of subject. It's positive of its own that Jay's showing interest in anything after all.

"We have progress. Anthony Hunt's alive."

Jay's eyes widen, "Okay, and that means?"

"That means there could be news later today or tomorrow so you need to rest so you can get out of here, knowing that you're safe," quietly Al adds, "And Hailey too."

Jay frowns at Al, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What do I know? I'm just an old guy?"

Jay smiles, and for Al it may just make the past few days worthwhile.

"Not just an old guy, Olinsky. The best old guy. Anyway, I know I'm late, but you okay? Meredith, okay?"

Al returns Jay's smile. "I had a conversation like this less than a couple of hours ago. You're well suited. As partners, of course."

Jay shakes his head. "Avoidance noted."

"Well, two can play that game, right?" Al's smile disappears slowly. "In answer to your question though, Jay, I don't know. I called her, left a message and just got a text back with a single X. I think she's doing her thing to cope while I do mine."

"Yeah."

The chair scrapes along the floor as Al stands up. "I should go. I only came in to check on you and here I am almost 2 hours later."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me, just try to get what I said into your head. That's all the thanks I need. You need anything before I go? Walk you to the bathroom?"

Jay makes an indignant sound, "I'm not your age, man."

"Didn't say you were, kid."

They grin at each other.

"Would you mind lifting up the blind? Perhaps living like Dracula wasn't the best for my mood."

Al does as Jay asked without comment, pours some water from the jug into a plastic cup and hands it to Jay who stares into the water before shyly looking at his friend.

"Whatever you're doing later, stay safe. Make sure she stays safe too. Get her excellent coffee as well. Black."

Al smiles knowingly and salutes leaving the room and Jay returns his gaze to the water, breathing shakily then nodding to himself and looking out the window, willing the time away so he can know everything tonight has gone well.

\- - - -

The call takes place just after 1pm in a van a couple of miles from the 21st. Just Hunt, Hailey, Voight and Dawson in the van while the rest of the unit keeps eyes outside to make sure no one's watching them.

Hunt seems calmer than before. Laser-focused on the task ahead.

"You stick to the plan. If Price won't meet at that location, it's off. We go with the other solution."

Hunt frowns but agrees and Antonio nods at him the moment he presses play on the record button and Hunt presses dial.

Price picks up within 3 rings. "Who's this?"

"Mr Price, sir, it's me."

"Who's me?"

"Anthony Hunt, sir."

Price laughs. It's an unpleasant noise. "Wondered what it'd take to drag you back. Why now? Run out of coke? Money? Need a fix, do ya, kid?"

"No sir, I got a business proposition. One I'm prepared to take elsewhere if you don't agree."

"What the fuck? Who are you to tell me you'll take your business elsewhere, you piece of shit?"

"With respect, sir, I think you should listen."

"To you and who's army."

"Meet me tonight and you'll see, sir."

Hailey watches the way Hunt breathes slowly through his mouth, his free hand gripping the bench in the van, all a way of keeping his control. It's working so far.

"Meet him tonight,'' he says? Jeez, kid, you got some nerve.. You should come to me begging for your old job back, not telling me what I should and shouldn't do and what if I don't, anyway? What can you do?"

"Word on the street says you need me more than I need you right now, boss, and as for what I can do. You don't give me a million dollars and a bag of bricks, I tell the cops."

Where they expected rage, instead silence follows. For long enough that Voight, Hailey, and Antonio peer at the screen that shows the length of the call and then to Hunt to make sure the line's still connected.

After nearly thirty seconds, Price speaks.

"Where? When?"

Hunt closes his eyes, "The Silos. You know the place."

"Smart, Hunt, smart. Private, too. Okay, so when?"

"11pm."

"Just you or some friends?" Price tries again.

Hailey shakes her head, changing the head shake to a nod of approval and a smile of relief when Hunt presses the end call button, then drops the phone onto the bench next to him.

She looks down towards his hands that are on his lap now.

"You can uncross those fingers now, Anthony."

He reddens, muttering a quiet "thank you," then looking from Hailey to the two men, he asks, "So what do we have to do now to prepare for tonight?"

\- - - -

The answer for Anthony at least is very little. There's more for Hailey and the rest of the unit to prepare though even then there's a limit to that until the meet happens

Patrol continue to monitor Marcie's place.

Everyone and everything they need for tonight is ready to go. The ivory tower on board with the information Voight had provided.

None of intelligence prepared to let this go wrong or risk a failure in getting justice against the people who had attempted to kill Jay and murdered all the other men.

Hunt, Flynn, and Kacey are fitted with wires. Given what's about to happen, they seem calm. The right amount of nerves thrumming under the surface. Perhaps it's the fact that for each of them in their own way at least, it's what they've wanted all along.

The chance to nail the people responsible for destroying their lives, the people they loved's lives, and even if it goes wrong, at least they tried.

It won't go wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, lots of information there too and some little heartfelt moments too. I love writing Al and Jay almost as much as Hailey and Jay and forever sad there wasn't more Hailey and Al in S5. 
> 
> I think there are 2 more chapters to come but it's possible, it could flow into a third but likely that would be an epilogue. I'll see what happens with ffnet and its troubles but all being well, it'll all be up and complete over on here as well as ffnet too.
> 
> Let me know what you thought and thank you for reading. A hug to anyone struggling with world events right now, there's so much to face and hear about, and wishing safe times tomorrow and into the coming days pre and post-election day xx


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the penultimate chapter. It's a long one again though not as long as the last.

Officers Bryce Delaney and Keira Miller have been on duty on South Justine Street for the last 3 hours. Nothing's happened besides the local kids practicing on the brand new bikes they got for Christmas.

Still, at least Keira's husband prepared some sandwiches, so she's got those to look forward to later.

"Any ideas why we're waiting outside this place for an old lady?" Delaney asks.

"Not the full story, all I know is she's part of an ongoing investigation. Pays not to ask too hard when Sergeant Platt asks you to do something? You do it well and perhaps she'll chalk it up for one day when she's allocating vacation time."

"Huh. So when do I get vacation t-."

Miller cuts him off with a loud, "Shh," and an accompanying smack on his arm. "That's her right?"

Delaney follows the direction of Miller's hand and sees a woman approach a vehicle.

"The very same."

"That a cab or someone she knows?"

"Who the hell cares? Let's follow it and you call it in." Miller instructs, starting the engine and following the car a few seconds after it pulls away from outside Marcie's apartment block.

"Copy that." Delaney replies as he presses the button on his radio and talks.

\- - - -

Everyone's in various locations close to the meeting point. Hailey with Olinsky and Voight. Burgess with Dawson in theirs and Ruzek with Atwater are closest and on foot.

The meeting point, a disused warehouse with beams only instead of a full roof and vegetation growing from the ground. The walls around it and nearby covered in graffiti. Close by is where Jay had been found on Christmas morning.

The moon is slightly more than half full, illuminating the inside of the building slightly though Hunt had assured them that as a place he was familiar with from when things had gotten particularly bad during the time he worked for Price, there was lighting available in a small hut in the corner of the warehouse.

Hailey checks her watch. 10.56pm. In the distance she can see the Nissan Kacey, Hunt and Flynn had arrived in. They're inside the warehouse now, each wire so far working. Hunt's with a video feed that Olinsky's holding the tablet for at the moment. Hunt had been right. And the lighting alongside the moon makes the view inside the warehouse clear enough.

She's always nervous at times like this. They're healthy nerves, though. Nerves that have kept her alive so far at least.

"5021-squad, you read?"

Platt.

"Yeah, we hear ya, Trudy, what's going on?" Voight says holding his radio.

"I realize the meet is imminent, but I thought you should know. My patrol officers who had eyes on Marcie Townsend's place? She left thirty minutes ago. They followed her. Here. 5 minutes ago she walked up to the desk and said she wanted to hand herself in for handling drugs and conspiracy to murder Eddie Stapleton, Craig Farmer, David Flynn and her own son. Thought you should know."

Voight turns around to Hailey quickly and then Al.

"Copy that, Trudy. Keep her in the cells till we get back."

"Copy that."

The radio falls silent again.

"Sarge? That's gotta be linked." Hailey leans forward.

Kevin's voice comes through on the radio, "We still going ahead?"

Voight looks at Olinsky who shrugs then quickly nods and decision made, Voight holds up his radio, "We all heard that. They probably know what this is, or it could be they don't. Whatever, we back out now, it could be our last shot so we keep our heads on a swivel. We move in fast if we have-."

"We got company." Burgess's voice interrupts Voight before he can finish,

In the distance, headlights illuminate the darkness for several seconds before they dim and turn off, Hailey lifts the binoculars to her eyes, peering through as the doors open on either side of the vehicle and the two figures move towards the building.

"That's them."

She lowers the binoculars, her attention focused on the screen from now on as Voight lowers his voice with one more instruction.

"Okay, everybody stay in position till I say we move."

\- - - -

The moment Price and Barnet lay eyes on Flynn is telling enough as he flanks Hunt but it's when they realize who the person on the other side of Hunt is that it feels to Hailey like everything is coming together but on the verge of falling apart all at the same time.

Barnet's expression, the way his mouth forms a perfect O shape before he gasps out her name.

"Kacey, what the fuck? I thought you were-." He doesn't need to complete the sentence.

"What is this?" Price. His tone is sharp. He looks around him quickly before he gestures in front of him, eyeing each of them suspiciously.

"These are my people, Boss," He pauses, gesturing to both men. "Where are my bricks, the money?"

Price laughs. "The money. Yeah, I mean there's plenty, but none for you and your people. You still on something, you stupid bastard? Hear that, Pete? His people. Like we haven't figured out the whole reason this meet is happening."

Price looks at Barnet, expecting him to be laughing too or curling his lips in disdain, but the man's staring towards Kacey.

"He told me you were dead. He told me that Brian Townsend had you killed."

"Once you open up Pandora's box, huh Pete?"

Flynn looks between both men. Price appearing unrepentant. Barnet's gaze still focused on Kacey.

"Thought you followed Helen and left the city, Steve. You really should've."

"You've always had that tell, Jim. Right back from when we served together. When you were losing an argument, even a card game, you always resorted to threats, veiled as they are."

"You don't know me, Steve."

"You're right and not knowing you well enough or the man you became cost me my son. Nearly cost these two people everything and did cost Kacey her right to live where she wanted. Her brother's right to know that she was okay. Anthony's right not to be tortured by memories long after the damage you did to him ceased. All those other men. For what?"

Price squares his shoulders, an unpleasant cold smile slowly emerging. "As soon as I realized Foster was a cop, I knew you had to have something to do with it. Getting him out of there. You always had that savior complex. Several times, we thought we'd got rid of him. Steve, you and Tony going to ground merely proved our suspicions."

"I mean, I almost understand the cop, Boss," Hunt starts then pauses, shaking his head. "Although I don't actually but my point is, what made you want to do the things you did to Marcie's son, to Kacey's brother."

Quieter, his voice breaking, "to me. We were helping you make so much money. We stayed loyal, we never said a word. We did everything you said even before you started making every memory me and the other guys worked so hard to push down, come back and take away our sanity, bit by bit until it killed us or you got bored and you made sure those guys died because of that."

"Some tours of duty come to a natural end," Price shrugs, "Some of you simply weren't right for this tour."

Hunt clenches and unclenches his fists, laughing bitterly.

"That's bullshit," Kacey inches forward toward Price, stopped only by Hunt's hand.

"Kace, no. Come on."

She pivots away to her right, away from his hand, her eyes on Price before they shift to the man beside him. Barnet whose eyes have barely moved from staring at her the whole time, only now they lower and he stares down, avoiding eye contact.

"You stood by and watched this? You came out of prison and the first thing you encountered was me and Brian and this place that could've been home for you despite all the crap behind the scenes. It was still better than how it turned out. And instead of trying to change like you told me that time before it all went to shit, you tried to hurt me and to add to that, you believed this piece of shit and you went along with hurting Brian, hurting so many other people."

She steps closer, her head inclined to one side before she shakes it, looking away and then back to Barnet. Barnet whose head jerks to the side with the force of her palm slapping his cheek.

She steps backward. "You know I used to think you were the worst, Jimmy, but you had power to keep. It obsessed you and everyone knew that. You though, Pete. I hope you rot wherever you end up. I hope you both do. You and that bitch Marcie."

It happens fast. The gun which points at Kacey. That Price trains on Kacey's forehead.

\- - - -

"Sarge? Do we move?" Atwater asks over the radio.

Voight exchanges a quick glance with Al, maintaining his attention on the screen in front of them and the gun aimed at Kacey.

Holding up his radio, he replies quickly, "Do you or Ruzek have a shot?"

"Negative."

"We don't move yet. We watch and be ready when I say move."

"Copy that."

Behind him, Hailey checks her vest fastenings reflexively, touching the gun in her side holster and reaches toward the door handle, ready for the inevitable command no matter whether it comes immediately or in a few minutes.

Her attention never wavers from the screen.

\- - - -

Kacey doesn't flinch. Instead, feigning a yawn.

Barnet on the other hand is anything but disinterested.

"Don't do it, Jimmy. Not her. Come on, why are you so mad at her. Cause she mentioned Marcie? What about what she said about me? Where's your loyalty to me? To lie that Kacey was dead?"

Price doesn't respond. The aim of the gun directly at Kacey is unwavering.

"Don't do this, Jim," Flynn urges.

Hunt moves to stand in front of Kacey, but Barnet gets there first. Straightens his spine, his head bowed for a moment before he lifts his chin and stares directly into the barrel.

"Pete, move out the way for christ's sake," Price requests, his tone uncertain for the first time since the meet began.

Kacey does her best to get in front of Barnet, ignoring the protests of Flynn and Hunt, and the quietly spoken, "No," from Barnet himself.

The squawk of a bird suddenly arriving in the warehouse provides enough distraction for Kacey to push Barnet aside and step closer to the gun and Price. Close enough that the barrel almost touches her temple.

She grins, her arms by her sides, relaxed. "I'm not scared, You already took so much from me. My only regret would be to leave Tony and Steve behind, but you wouldn't dare anyway, would you, Jimmy? Not man enough unless you got your right-hand man next to ya, huh? Or that murdering bitch Marcie. Hey, I'll even make it easier for you and shut my eyes."

Two seconds later, there's a scream of "No!" and a gunshot.

\- - - -

Hailey doesn't wait for Voight to shout for them all to move in. She's already running fast towards the warehouse. Vaguely registering the voices of her colleagues as they all approach the warehouse and Voight and Olinsky follow closely behind her.

She waits for them to join her and the three of them move in formation into the warehouse, Burgess and Dawson, Atwater and Ruzek from their positions too, nearing the scene, close enough now so they can figure out quickly what's happening.

Hailey sees Kacey first, apparently unharmed, staring at the floor. Near to her, someone is crouched next to another. The person Kacey's staring at who appears to be attempting CPR.

A few feet away is Price. The gun pointed to his own head. Hell no. Hailey approaches cautiously from behind.

"Chicago PD, Price, lower your gun and place it on the ground."

Antonio stands in front of him, his own gun raised. "Do it, Price."

Price laughs mirthlessly. "Never did find out your actual name, Paula."

Hailey ignores him, repeating her order, "I said lower your gun."

"Is-is he alive?"

Hailey shifts slightly, making eye contact with Antonio who looks at the scene behind Hailey and Price. Lifting one hand away from the gun for a moment, he moves his thumb downwards before returning it to the gun.

"He's still fighting," Hailey lies.

Price shudders, his shoulders sagging and the gun lowering. Hailey moves closer, familiar with how the situation can flip at any moment, but the gun falls from his hand and clatters to the ground.

Hailey moves forward, barking out, "Get on the ground, Price. Get on the ground now!"

Price obeys though Hailey keeps her gun on him the whole time, nodding at Antonio who does the same, then steps round to put Price in cuffs. For a fraction of a second, she looks behind her. Taking in the scene. Al with his hands trying to move Kacey away as she sobs quietly as Burgess stands beside them.

Atwater talking to Hunt, who stares at the body on the ground, glancing across at Price as he lies face down on the ground, his expression unreadable while Voight talks to Flynn who shows no sign of listening instead staring at his blood-soaked hands.

Ruzek is on his radio calling for paramedics, even though Barnet appears to be dead, and backup to secure the scene with forensics to make sure they miss nothing.

Hailey returns her attention to Price and Antonio who's helping to stand up and turning him so he sees Barnet's body lie motionless.

"Oh god no."

It's almost satisfying to see the panic on Price's face as the realization hits him that his time may have finally run out.

\- - - -

Hailey leans against the wall of the interview room, arms folded. Her expression impassive as she stares at Price.

Price who's refusing to talk until a lawyer arrives. His right. Though it doesn't stop Voight from pushing him.

"We have the shooting on tape. We have everything said in the meet on tape. We have evidence including that of my detectives and at least 2 of your victims including one of my cops and that's even before we act up on the warrants that are being granted to search the bars where you trafficked coke for years. No lawyer will get your sentence reduced. You're going away for a very long time, Price."

Price studies the table, his hands laid flat and still on top of it till he clasps them together, raises one to cover his eyes and holds the bridge of his nose. He doesn't look at either Hailey or Voight.

"So you have all the evidence? Could be that I won't even deny it, but I will lawyer up. I will make it as hard as possible for you and your detectives, including the cop Halstead, and you, Detective Upton, to take me down."

Hailey pushes away from the wall, rests her hand on the table close to Price's hand that remains there, leaning in as close as possible.

"What about Marcie, Jimmy? What if you staying quiet means she has to stay in prison longer?" She takes her hand away, smiles sweetly. "Marcie seemed like a sensitive spot for you in the warehouse."

Price meets her stare, expression vacant. Giving nothing away except the slight flush in his cheeks and the brief bite of his lower lip.

"If there's one thing I know, it's that Marcie Townsend will always be okay. Now if you don't mind, Detective. Sergeant. I'd like to wait for my lawyer."

He lays his other hand down again, flat on the table, and smiles beatifically. As though he's waiting for a train or a cab rather than a lawyer. Impassive again in contrast to the panic before. Despite the multiple charges set to be levelled against him no matter what the lawyer tries.

Voight shrugs. "Your choice, Price."

Hailey follows him to the corridor. Just like she'd done so recently when Marcie had first been here. But even though Price has put up a wall, it's so different. Everything is.

Kim and Antonio are waiting.

"Marcie dialled back a little on her confession. Now denies all knowledge of her son's murder but admits handling drugs and conspiracy to murder Eddie Stapleton and Craig Farmer," Antonio tells them.

"We've already gone to the State's attorney and we're waiting for confirmation of charges. Marcie's downstairs." Kim explains.

"Okay. Any sign she wants to make a plea deal?"

"No, Sarge," Kim replies.

"Also, the warrants are ready and Olinsky spoke to Platt and we have patrols ready for raids when we say go," Antonio supplies.

"Where are Flynn, Hunt and Kacey?" Hailey queries.

"They're just back from Med. Got checked over. We're about to take statements and Kev, Adam and Al will too. The Medical Examiner will do the autopsy on Barnet tomorrow," Kim looks down at her watch realizing it's well into the next day already, amending her choice of words, "later today, rather."

"Okay, so if me and Al talk to Kacey and we wait for his lawyer?" Hailey jerks her thumb toward the interview room.

Voight shakes his head. "We'll take him downstairs if the lawyer doesn't arrive in the next few minutes. Kim, Antonio, between you both, Atwater and Ruzek, me and Olinsky, we'll speak to Flynn, Hunt and Kacey. Go make a start on that now."

"Sarge," Antonio and Kim chorus in acknowledgement, walking toward the bullpen.

Hailey furrows her brow, "So, if you guys do that, what do I do?"

"I think there's someone who could use an update, don't you?"

Hailey doesn't have to be told twice.

\- - - -

It's 5am when Hailey arrives at the hospital. She'd been to her home first to change her clothes, hoping to feel fresher, but the adrenaline from the op has passed now, and she's bone weary.

She doesn't know what to expect on her arrival. Olinsky had been hopeful, but that was then, and she's adamant she won't raise her hopes yet.

It's still dark and the blinds are down in Jay's room. There's a small amount of light from the nurses' station, but that's all. She expects or rather hopes he'll be asleep but as she steps into the room and nears the bed, she can see his eyes are open and he's staring up toward the ceiling not showing a sign of having heard her.

For a moment, she considers touching him but quickly dismisses it, pushing down the disappointment and turns away. Not quite avoiding the trolley. She cringes at the noise and swears under her breath at the short-lived pain in her toe.

Gently pushing the trolley aside and walking closer to the door.

"Hailey? Are you okay?"

She lays her hand against the glass of the window next to the door, takes a breath and turns around. Jay's reaching upwards and pressing a button and the light comes on. Jay smiles apologetically as he reaches toward his ears with each hand and pulls earphones out and reaches under the blanket and pulls out an iPad.

"Couldn't sleep, and for once it had nothing to do with, well, you know, it was not being there with you guys. Anyway, one nurse loaned me her iPad, and they found some earphones for me to use so I listened to a podcast about well I don't know what I wasn't really listening. Just kept hoping you were all safe. And you are, or you are at least," almost as an afterthought he adds, "Is everyone safe? Did it go okay?"

Hailey approaches the bed.

She debates quickly whether to tell Jay everything before deciding that's for another day, settling instead for the basic truth. "Yeah. Everyone is safe. It's over, Jay."

Jay looks away immediately and she can see the way he swallows hard, and how the fingers on his right hand worry at the edge of the blanket.

She watches him quietly, allowing him the moment. After a minute, she murmurs his name, and he turns toward her, moisture in his eyes, the smallest fraction of a smile but a smile nonetheless.

"You good?"

"Been better, Hailey, but also I've been a lot worse," he admits then almost shyly, he asks," How are you doing? I mean, really?"

Right on cue, Hailey yawns and they share a smile.

"Okay, short and to the point. But really, you even slept at all lately?"

"A little."

The bed creaks as Jay shifts slightly, and Hailey notices that his cheeks have reddened. She blinks in confusion as Jay flicks his head and with his eyes looks down at the small space beside him in the bed.

"Look, you don't have to and I will no doubt apologize a thousand times so this is the first of many for how I behaved but I figure I owe you and I have no coffee to offer you as of now and its either here or the chair if you're staying for a while and the chair looks real uncomfortable but I understand if you'd rather not."

People talk of breakthroughs.

The smile on Jay's face and the way the anxiety in Hailey's stomach unknots as she takes off her coat, lays it on the trolley, kicks off her shoes and climbs on the bed in the perfectly Hailey sized space Jay had created for her?

She thinks perhaps this is one, perhaps the first she hopes of many.

\- - - -

"You realize you're being allowed home on the condition you don't rush back to work next week, or even the week after or the one after that?"

Will's dangerously close to wagging his finger at Jay but for once Jay's too elated to to argue about it.

"For the fifth time this morning, bro, yes, I realize that."

Will lowers his eyes and mumbles, "Sorry, man."

"And for the fifth time, or it's more like the hundredth time, how many times do I have to remind you you don't have to keep saying sorry when It's me who should say the sorries?"

"We could go back and forth on this for hours which would be a very Halstead brothers' thing or we could just admit there were times we thought this day wouldn't come and that we should focus on that, right?"

"Right," Jay readily agrees, his gaze following Will's as his brother holds his hand up to wave at someone behind him.

Hailey.

Will slaps Jay's chest, snatching Jay's attention from Hailey and grins continuing their conversation from earlier today. "So, I'll come over for New Year's Eve, bring some pizza and celebrate the fact that Jay Halstead gets to see 2018?"

"Just no beers for me so no fun at all, right?"

"Right!" Will laughs and then pulls Jay in for a hug and then at arm's length surveying his little brother. Relieved beyond measure that Jay's alive, smiling albeit still looking exhausted, beaten down and according to the nurses barely able to sleep at all.

That'll come with his support and people like Hailey at his back. He observes the way Jay responds to Hailey. The aggression and fear, the pain diminished and the lashing out all but gone now from his brother. Instead, there're brief smiles shared between them and avoidance of eye contact with his brother.

He watches them leave, nodding to himself, thanking anything and every soul that's ever existed that he's here this afternoon and not in a funeral home instead.

\- - - -

Hailey sets the small bag down and shuts the door to Jay's apartment behind her. Looking around her till her attention settles on Jay, who's clutching the back of a chair. One of two in the living room area.

She touches his elbow lightly, noting that he startles slightly, quickly mumbling an apology toward her.

"Sit down before you fall down, Jay," she urges, pointing toward the leather couch. Above it a painting of a motorbike.

In one corner of the room, a guitar rests against the wall.

He shuffles slowly toward the couch, sinking heavily onto it, observing and then voicing her thoughts aloud for her.

"I know. It's a real bachelor pad. It kinda works, though. Low maintenance and not even that messy after all the time away from it."

"I like it."

At Jay's unconvinced noise, she gestures toward the guitar and around her, insisting, "No, it's nice. You have nice art, these chairs even look comfortable. And if you can play that guitar, I'm even more impressed."

Jay brightens. "Oh yeah, well it's been quite a long time, but I was definitely one of those assholes in country with a guitar singing Bob Dylan and thinking I was the coolest."

"Well, I think it's cool."

"Tell that to the local farm animals in some places in Afghanistan whose sleep I ruined."

"No farm animals to disturb around here, Jay. I still think it's cool and one day you could teach me? I used to play the recorder in elementary, but that's the extent of my musical prowess."

"Funny cause I always wanted to learn to play the recorder so you teach me yours, if I teach you mine."

"Deal," Hailey agrees, then gesturing towards where she can see the small kitchen, "Want a drink?"

Jay's smile widens. "Like you have to ask."

Hailey beams with delight, "You remembered?"

Jay's expression changes to one of surprise, "You thought I'd forget?"

"You just went through a lot is all, Jay."

"Yeah, yeah I did but I'm here now and I do still like coffee and I'm thirsty so?" Jay's eyes look toward the kitchen.

Hailey laughs, "So I'll take the hint and go get you the coffee. Back in a minute."

\- - - -

Twenty minutes later Jay's holding the mug of coffee and sitting on the couch while Hailey sits on the nearest chair. Her coffee mug placed on the side table.

It's a quiet, companionable silence.

Hailey's not sure she should break it but it was burning a hole in the inside pocket of her coat before so she stands up, picks up the coat and pulls the rolled-up map from it.

Jay looks quizzical for about 2 seconds before his eyes widen, and he makes a sound of surprise though he quickly gathers himself as she unrolls it and like every time she sees it, feels herself well up with emotion.

"You found it in the apartment then?"

Hailey looks up from the map. "Yeah, well, actually I think Al saw it first, or at least the package, but he doesn't know what it's in it. Just me and you. Honestly Jay, it's the most thoughtful gift I ever had and I still look at it and can't believe it, where d'you find it?"

Jay blushes. "I just searched on the internet, made a heap of calls and there was this guy and lucky for me, he's based in the city. It kinda felt like fate. If I couldn't get hold of it easily, I would've taken it. It wasn't meant to be, but I could get hold of it easily and that time, that day."

Jay looks away. "The entire time since Erin left. It was as though I was in this rut, this place was like a pit where I kept finding myself falling deeper. I just thought it was in a bad way. Then that time I spent with you, the whole undercover, and getting to know you. That one day. Learning about Ikaria and feeling like I'd known you my entire life. I told you things it took me years or even never to tell Erin, Hailey. Maybe it was just the undercover and maybe I just wanted to feel some normalcy and getting the map felt like I was grabbing hold of the good in amongst the crap and things that made me feel like I was losing my mind."

He gathers himself, looking back toward Hailey, a tentative smile on his face. "Whatever it was, I'm just glad you like it. It means a lot to me you like it, Hailey, and I'm sorry that I've messed up whatever we built by being how I have in the past few days."

"Jay, no, what you went through, it's okay." Hailey protests but then quietens trying to form words, better words or sentences, coherent enough to make sense of then and what it means now.

_We were just undercover._

Eventually it comes, though not quite how she imagined it would.

"Hey Jay, did the guy say if this was the only version of the map he had?"

"What do you mean?"

"It'd look good by the door or even just in a corner of this room or your bedroom?"

"What?" Jay looks genuinely perplexed.

"You can stay on my island, Jay. Not just as Ryan and Paula. Jay and Hailey and I figure a little visualization of that. One in my place and one in yours, at least at first it's a kinda nice way to make that commitment."

Later on they'll be hard pressed to recall how long they just stared at each other. Small smiles and eye contact speaking multiple words, neither of them quite ready to articulate.

Jay's history is littered with impulsive moments, like it was several weeks back, and apparently so's his present now too as he eventually stands up and Hailey does too. As they stand so close to each other and he lowers his mouth towards hers and he watches in what feels like he's on fast forward as she stands on tiptoes and her mouth is so close to his.

What if it's still a rebound thing? What if it's just the trauma seeking comfort? What if it's the coming home and reality that will bring that could bring along with it? What if that doesn't matter and they're both grown adults and he knows it's not just that any more?

The kiss is brief but long enough that Jay thinks at least in amongst the nightmares, there'll be this fragment of good, no, great to break up every terrible memory and have hope for the future. They separate, but only far enough that they could kiss again so easily if they wanted to. Far enough that he sees her smile, her eyes and feels bathed in the warmth, comfort, stability and more that she's offered since he allowed it all to lower his defenses.

Just undercover then, maybe. But what if it's more now?

It i _s_ more. The start of more.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, here's the last chapter. I hope it's okay. I'll see you below for endless waffle!

**3 weeks later**

They'd allowed Jay to come early. Before the masses visit their loved ones. A favor from one of Antonio's buddies. The visiting room is filled with tables with benched seating.

Jay sits on the edge of one of the benches, one leg bouncing up and down constantly, his nails drumming a rhythm with his nails onto the table. He hears the door creak open and looks up, it's one of the correctional officers who steps to his side, holding the door open.

It's another minute until Jay sees her. Another ten seconds after that when she sees him, stops dead and turns away.

Jay stands up. "Marcie, don't walk away."

Slowly she turns again, strolling deliberately slowly to a table several feet away from him. Some kind of attempt at power play, perhaps. Jay lets it pass by without comment, watching as she sits down, folds her arms and fixes him with a bored stare, then he crosses the short distance to the table, breathes deeply and sits down.

She looks like she's barely slept, which makes two of them, although that's not strictly true, for lately anyway. It's getting better bit by bit for Jay. Sort of.

Marcie's hair's turning gray fast all over. She's not wearing makeup and looks older than her years, and her complexion's dull against the correctional center's plain clothing. Once upon a time Jay had thought she was almost beautiful. That notion disappeared several weeks ago. Today, even before they speak, Jay knows it would never come back.

Today's part of the process to make it even better for Jay, though now he's here, he's lost for words.

Marcie for her part busies herself with inspecting her fingernails, chewing on a cuticle until.

"Halstead. That's your name, right?"

"Yeah."

She raises her eyes. "Enjoy double crossing an old lady, did ya?"

Jay almost laughs. "You're _still_ going to try that old trick? You're _still_ gonna keep up the act because I wasn't the only one playing a role, was I, Marce? I gotta ask, was it worth it? Was he worth it when you ended up taking the plea deal, anyway?"

Only one night she'd lasted here with the bravado that she'd take any sentence given to her for what she'd confessed to. The Metro Correctional Center changes minds fast.

The next day, the truth or the version according to Marcie had spilled out. Hearing about Barnet seemed to shake her. She'd given locations. Names. They'd found a quantity of drugs, paperwork hidden in a box within the frame of her bed in her apartment. Signs of money she'd coerced from some of the victims. Perhaps to fund the rehab, Jay had genuinely considered funding for her himself at one point. Enough to put her away for a long time. As it stands, it'll be a fraction of that long time now.

"None of those men loved their lives."

"Well, they certainly didn't after Price got his claws in them. After you softened them up. Between you both and Barnet, these guys never stood a chance." Jay leans forward. "You knew that they intended to kill your own son, and you just let it happen. What kind of mother does that?"

"You could never understand."

"You're right. I couldn't. I never will. How's life without oxy now, huh Marce? How do you sleep at night?"

Marcie rubs her face with one hand, while the other fidgets with her hair. She looks away, toward the door then as if Price was right there sliding a mask onto her face, she looks back at him, placing a hand on the table, her fingers almost touching his, inclining her head and raising her eyebrows.

"Better than you, huh, Jay? I don't have to live with myself being a cop. Killing a kid. I don't have to live with memories you thought you'd pushed right down."

Jay shakes his head briefly at the officer who'd stepped nearer to them on seeing the change in Marcie's posture and demeanor.

"The difference between me and you, Marce? Me and the other people, particularly those other people who got through all that the three of you put us through? We still have people around us who care or we found people who care." He points to Marcie. "And then there's you, you can feign all the indifference you want but there'll come a time when no one visits and if you think the days feel long here, wait till its years you have ahead of you. And Price won't be waiting for you when you get out, if you make it that far. It'll be the rest of your life in bail hostels. Trying to scratch a living."

She meets his stare, though she pulls her hand away as Jay continues.

"You trying to push down the memories and the guilt because it took me too long to figure it out, but now I have and we both know you knew full well what happened. You hated your son because he impeded you and this perfect idyll with Price."

"I wanted to be a grandma and then he came back all fucked up and it was like seeing my future fade into dust. I thought him getting a purpose would help. Then _she_ came along, turned his head and ruined everything."

Jay shakes his head. "No Marcie, _you_ ruined everything, not Kacey or anyone else. It was all you. Every other person who got hooked up around you tried to find a better way. I just hope it was worth it."

He sees the moment of realization, the panic flash across her features as Jay slides off his seat and stands up looking down at her.

"You lied to everybody. You lied to me about your kid, about Eddie. You lied to my partner too. You lied habitually and perhaps aside from when you got here and realized you couldn't cope with twenty or thirty years in prison, so you told the truth for once, you lied to yourself every single day. To change properly that's gotta stop, Marce."

Jay turns away, placing his hands in his jacket pocket, walking towards the visitor exit till her hand grabs at his arm.

"No touching!"

"It's okay," Jay assures the officer before he turns his head, and sees the tears in her eyes. The panic that's etched on her features now instead of just a flash of it.

"I really am sorry."

Jay looks down at her hand. For a second, he almost believes her, but then he looks at her again and realizes, shrugs her hand off.

"No, you're not. Except, sorry for yourself."

He thinks she says something, and he looks over his shoulder for just a second, sees one hand on her hip, the other gesturing angrily toward him, then toward the officer who tries to shepherd her away.

Jay doesn't know what he expected, but this? It was both worse and yet everything he's come to understand Marcie's about.

\- - - -

"How'd it go?" Al asks Jay after several minutes of silence when Jay had got back into the truck.

Jay glances toward the building he'd just been in, rubs his forehead and then his neck where there seem to be new knots that have developed since before he saw her. He looks straight ahead then, feeling the now familiar headache building. A new symptom of stress that's crept in over the last couple of weeks.

"I could use a shower," he replies.

Al makes a sympathetic noise. "You still okay to go to the 21st? Noone would mind if you changed it to tomorrow instead."

Jay smacks Al's arm lightly, smiling appreciatively. "Nah, man. I wanna go. Just would you mind if we made a stop first on the way?"

"Course not."

Al starts the engine as Jay looks out this window one more time, shakes his head, filling his head with what's ahead rather than behind him.

\- - - -

It almost seems like Jay never left. That it wasn't last year, in Autumn, when Jay last stepped into the bullpen. When Jay last looked at the board and convinced Voight he should go undercover.

It's no longer that case on the board. Although the board could be in the tech room, kept out of sight to not trigger Jay. Whatever the reason, he's relieved.

Everyone welcomes him back with a hug or a squeeze of his shoulder.

"Did it go okay, bro?" Antonio asks as he pulls away from the hug. He looks like he doesn't believe Jay when he replies that it did. Sometimes, it can almost feel like a curse to have worked with these people for so long.

Jay finds Hailey in the break room, looking behind him quickly as he hurries to her side. His mood lightens instantly as she smiles at him. That's one thing that's changed for sure since he was last here.

"Hey."

"Hey. How was it?" She gestures toward the drink she's just prepared. Jay shakes his head to the drink, grimacing in response to her question.

"That bad?"

"Yeah. Still, at least it's over and I'm still glad I did it. I think."

She looks past him and apparently satisfied with what she saw; she grabs his hand, squeezing it. "We can talk about it tonight. Though I know you're seeing the therapist later so we can also talk about anything other than that too."

"Other would be good," Jay replies, squeezing back.

"Got it," she releases her hand quickly as Voight clears his throat from his position by the door.

Voight isn't unaware of the development in Hailey and Jay's relationship. He'd seemed completely unsurprised, but it's still early days and PDA's where they work probably aren't the best idea.

"Got a minute before you go see the shrink, Jay? Thought we'd update you on everything with the case?"

"Yeah, okay Sarge."

\- - - -

"And then I spoke to Kayleigh Alexander. Informed her about Barnet. She contacted me the next day and asked if I could tell her if there'd be a memorial or a service. Said she needed closure," Kevin tells Jay.

"In the meantime, I contacted or tried to contact Amelia Fischer. Got no response, so Antonio and I visited her home." Kim adds.

"No sign of her and we spoke to a neighbor. Said she's left the city, permanently," Antonio concludes.

Jay's sitting on the edge of Hailey's desk, holding on tight. Hailey's next to him as he absorbs the information with a nod.

"We got a trial date for Price yet, or do we know when Marcie will be sentenced?" He inquires.

"He's playing hardball via his lawyers. April at the earliest was the last I heard, and we're still looking at charges for the bar owners who handled the coke," Al replies.

"Marcie's looking at sentencing in early March if all goes to plan." Hailey puts in.

Jay pushes off of Hailey's desk. "Not sure if Hailey said, but I had a message from Steven Flynn saying when all this was over, he wanted to meet up. He's with Helen till we need him, right?"

"Yeah," Al confirms, "Last I heard, Kacey and Anthony had followed them there too, just for a change of scenery till the DA decides whether to file charges against Anthony but for what we did to assist I doubt they will and I think that's why they let him leave the state. The Flynn's are setting up some kind of charitable trust in their kid's names. Apparently Mrs Flynn took everything real hard, doesn't want to come back here so rather than setting it up in Chicago, they'll set it up there."

"You plan to meet him?" Voight returns to Flynn's request.

Jay frowns, "Probably. I vowed that I wanted to look him in the eye and tell him we got justice. I guess we'll have to wait to see if we get that for him, for them all. Also I owe him, and Kacey and Anthony for each time they told Hailey where I was."

He looks at his feet, aware of the quiet in the bullpen now. He clears his throat, glancing at his watch.

"Anyway, I should go. Thanks, really thanks everyone for having mine and Hailey's backs."

There's a chorus of 'forget about it' and 'you got it, brother' around the room and Jay shuts his eyes, relieved and exhausted all at once that he knows all he needs to know for now.

Everyone disperses, their attention turning to the board. Returning to the current case while Voight walks back towards his office, Jay's voice stopping him.

"Sarge, you got a minute?"

"Sure? In there?" Voight half turns, pointing toward his office and continuing when Jay nods.

"You want me to take you when you're done with Voight?" Hailey asks Jay, who pauses in the doorway of Voight's office.

"No, I'm good. Could use the exercise. A little time to think you know."

Hailey nods. Without question. As always, embodying understanding and acceptance of Jay when he needs it.

\- - - -

The rollercoaster of emotions hasn't stopped since Jay left the hospital. Hailey sleeps, but the quality of it is terrible. Every day she wakes up exhausted. She's spent some time at Jay's and he's spent a few nights with her, but Jay's still healing. Still struggling with the nightmares. It's only been 3 weeks, they need to be patient.

The case is moving forward, well enough that they're able to look at another for the first time in months. It's positive, but it doesn't stop Hailey from making sure nothing's left to chance. She knows she's not alone in that.

She's tried to find Terry, but so far no luck. She won't give up because without him, she'd have gone crazy in the bar sometimes. Without his words of warning, she would've been even less prepared for what followed. And what he knows, what he didn't tell her. She knows it could be invaluable. She wants to know he's okay too. Needs to know. Something about closure.

Amidst the case, the worrying about Jay, thoughts about Terry, is the contrast with the good.

The good that is her and Jay, the way it's only been 3 weeks, or a few weeks longer if she can even count the time they were undercover, as the two of them, haileyandjay and how it feels like they get each other in a way she's unfamiliar with.

In amongst it all is a building feeling of needing to put everything behind her. Everything starting with Garrett and the fact that this time it didn't turn out like that but there's an ever present fear that remains that it didn't happen this time but what about the next?

There's time for that later, of course. True to form, she'll coax Jay into talking and talking and neglect that side of herself until they reverse the roles and Jay'll persist long enough till she agrees.

They're really two sides of the same coin, and yet somehow it works. She needs to learn to accept it, enjoy it without fearing or inviting the worst their way.

If only it were that easy.

\- - - -

The rain pouring down and the dark clouds in the sky on his walk here had been a perfect match to Jay's mood, even though it went well with Voight. Now as he steps out of the elevator, still brushing the excess rain from his head and onto the carpeted floor, he presses the second button, rubbing his temple, the headache looming.

It's always worse in the minutes before these appointments.

The buzzer sounds, and he hears the click of the door, pushes it open and he crosses his fingers for a second, hoping for the best.

\- - - -

"How do you feel now? Glad you went because at least it's done now or sorry I ever suggested it?"

Dr Hardaker is about the furthest away from the stereotype of a therapist as it's possible to be.

Recommended by Dr Charles and on the list of shrinks who can sign Jay back to work ultimately, given he had no choice but to take part in it, it was him or go with someone no one knew anything about.

Jay's seen him twice a week since the day after he'd been discharged.

Hardaker's not much older than Jay. Wears jeans. Smiles a lot. Swears a lot and originally from London, has a good line in sarcasm. He's also brilliant at his job and not eccentrically. In a way that means Jay doesn't really realize how good until something clicks later on that night or in the days after.

The question he'd just asked Jay typical of the bluntness, unafraid to ask something that could result in Jay's criticism or him lashing out.

"Can I say both?"

"Of course. Let me try another question, do you think it set you back? Anything that's made you doubt your conviction that you're fine, it's all tickety-boo?"

Jay smirks. "Tickety-boo?"

"Yeah, piss off. Deal with it. Also avoidance noted, Jay. You should know how it goes by now, mate. 5 minutes added on for each obvious avoidance tactic."

Jay appreciates he's not able to bullshit him. He purses his lips.

"I don't think I was ever under any illusion that I'm fine. Or at least not since after I woke up. Before I was. Convinced myself I was just a little beaten down by everything."

"Morgan? And Erin's departure?"

"Yeah."

"Ok, and now? I'm talking specifically now, mate. Like if I told you I'm willing to sign you back on, a week or two of light duties. Could be even less if you commit to continuing with me. How would you feel, honestly? If it happened again, your bullet found it's way through a door, killing a kid again. That terrify you?"

"Yeah, yeah it does."

There's a flicker of a smile on Hardaker's face, approval for Jay's honesty. "Go on," he urges Jay.

"I'm terrified to go back. I'm terrified of a bullet hitting another kid. I'm terrified that one of my bullets hits Hailey instead because everyone always leaves, eventually. I'm scared that everything I said to Marcie bites me on the ass and I end up in gen pop one day on account of one of my bullets hitting someone."

"Well, thanks fo-."

"I hadn't finished, Doc." At Hardaker's palms up apology, Jay continues, "I live this nightmare most nights. The one where a bullet hits someone else. Sometimes it's Morgan and sometimes it's someone and I don't see their face because fear already woke me up. Sometimes it's Hailey, hell even one time, it was you. The thing is, what else do I do?"

"Live on that island? Ikaria, wasn't it? Set up that intelligence unit, Greek Island style, live the life you're allowed to have. That you deserve to have, Jay."

"For a month until I'd get bored," Jay looks down at his hands. "Okay, so what I'm going to say next will sound crazy, especially given I'm here after almost dying, but bear with me?"

Hardaker makes a light scoffing sound, "Jay, I'm a therapist. Crazy's what makes me tick. Nothing you can say could phase me, you should know that by now."

"Ok, what if being terrified is what's kept me alive so far? What if every memory I have of Tabssum and Morgan is what drives me? Makes me eventually get better. Keeps Hailey safe as long as she's my partner."

"That's not crazy, mate. But it's a fucking terrible way to live your life and I get that Hailey means the world to you and that protecting people whatever the cost to you is what motivates you, but your sanity matters too, Jay. You matter. What's stopping you from falling down that pit again? What's stopping an accident happening or some evil bastard taking it out of your hands and something awful happens to someone you love and you take on something straight after that sends you falling too deep this time? I tell you what the answer is, nothing."

"So I never get to go back?"

"Not what I said. I'll sign you back to light duties tomorrow, Jay. I will, but the trouble is look at this session today alone. What have we talked about? Important stuff, sure, but old stuff. Stuff we can deal with, but stuff that means you avoid talking about what brought you here. Things that keep you awake at night."

"Morgan and Tabssum keep me awake at night," Jay argues.

"True, but they're not the only things that do and when you're here you talk about them so yeah we need to face them, but at least you're not afraid of them. You don't cringe or get defensive when I mention them."

Hardaker claps his hands suddenly. "Yet if I just said GHB, you cringe. You probably don't realize you do it, but you just did, and yet you didn't even flinch when I clapped my hands. It's normal. It's PTSD, it affects everyone so differently but there are things we can do. Ways I can help. Treatments that'll give you an arsenal of coping techniques to get you through life and if something sideswipes you and adds to it, you come back, we add to that arsenal but right now you ain't even giving me the material I need to help you build it. That makes you dangerous to yourself, and that's all I care about."

Dragging his chair closer, his voice lowering, "You're the one I need you to care about."

Jay nods, though he doesn't look at Hardaker. His fingers pull at a loose thread on the material of the chair he's in. His thoughts flying in different directions.

"You with me, Jay?"

After maybe thirty seconds, Jay finally responds.

"Yeah." releasing the bit of material finally, he repeats, "Yeah I am, doc."

Falling silent again, Jay can feel Hardaker's eyes on him. Can still hear him say 'GHB'. Can recognize suddenly how back in the bullpen on hearing about the case, he'd had to grip hard onto the edge of Hailey's desk, his knuckles turning white almost because if he hadn't, he'd have run. Fight or flight. Hardaker's right, it's a terrible way to live your life when it's just one part of it and there's so much else that's good in life for him if he can just learn how to live with it.

He counts down from ten in his head then zero comes and he makes the leap..

"So what if I said I don't wanna go back tomorrow? What if I said I'm not ready but I hear you and if you agree then maybe I will be with time and honesty?"

Hardaker smiles, squeezes Jay's knee, "I'd say I'm all ears Jay, my friend, I'm all ears."

\- - - -

Jay's drained when he leaves the room, headache back with a vengeance. He shakes Hardaker's hand and the door slams behind him. Drained he may be also he's hopeful for the first time in who knows how long.

Hailey's waiting for him by the elevator and he blinks with surprise that turns into delight when, with one hand behind her back at first, she then brings it forward, handing the thermos to him with a flourish. It's become their thing absolutely though, usually for Hailey as she'd leave for work in the morning or during the day while Jay was recovering.

He hugs it close to him, "Thank you."

It's all that either of them say as they go downstairs in the elevator and step out onto the sidewalk.

They're nearly at the truck when Hailey stops him. "So what happened?"

Jay looks nervous, so Hailey braces herself. To counsel Jay through the frustration of a delay in his return. A return to normalcy.

"I'm coming back. Just a little later than we talked about."

She hates that she was right. "Why? Not even on lighter duties for a little while?"

Jay holds up a finger and is that a grin on his face as he reaches into his jacket and pulls out an envelope? She thinks it is. He holds onto it.

"I talked to Voight. And to the doc and uh, I'm ready, but I don't feel rested. I don't feel like me and I know you're staying on top of your emotions for me but you were undercover too, Hails and well what's in the envelope could be too soon and if it is that's fine. Please just open it," he instructs as he hands her the envelope.

She takes it, pulling it open and reaching into the envelope, pulling out what's inside. A pouch with the United Airlines logo on it. She lifts the flap and looks inside.

Tickets. A bunch of them.

"The reason there are so many tickets is we have to get a bunch of fIights; the time of year for one and few direct flights to Athens never mind where we'll end up." Jay explains.

Where they'll end up only becomes clear as Hailey holds up the third ticket and her mouth falls open with shock.

"Jay!"

"It's just ten days. All I could square off with Voight with you being gone too. With the flight time, it's just nine days there, but I found a place to stay, the one place we can stay at this time of year in Ikaria."

"Ikaria," Hailey repeats, still in shock. "Jay, what the hell? You keep on surprising me. How do you do that?" She looks at the tickets again, then holding them against her with one hand, she lifts her hand to caress Jay's neck.

He shrugs as though it's the most normal thing for him to have done. "You keep on making me want to. Now what do you say we go home and pack?"

She shakes her head, "I say what do you say when I tell you I love you, Jay?"

"I'd say I love you right back."

They stare at each other for long moments, not wanting them to end until she stands on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss against his lips before pulling away, casting one last look down at the tickets she's amazed haven't faded into thin air by now and still she doesn't want the moment to end, but for once, for the first time in so long for them both, there's something to look forward to.

The moment _does_ end, though, of course. But then he's still beside her. Living. Breathing and altering her expectations of what it means to fall in love and stay in love.

For now, at least, it feels that easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is. I really can't believe it's complete. I started this story on the back of not being able to sleep at night sometimes, and these random plots forming in my head. The plot that inspired this was quite different, even darker actually. I'm kinda satisfied with where we ended up though as a perfectionist, never totally. This is by far the longest story I've ever written. The hardest story to write but the most enjoyable too. Eternally grateful to my shower for whenever I'd get frustrated with myself and know I was in the mood to write, but nothing was happening when my fingers hovered over the keyboard for ages. It always came through. Without the power of those shower thoughts and planning a scene in my head, I don't know if I'd have finished it. Just wanna know when will they invent something that automatically transfers the scenes in my head straight into a laptop without me promptly forgetting it all by the time I sat down.
> 
> This fic has been unbeta-ed really so any mistakes down to me but would have got nowhere without Leonor, your endless support, particularly in the early days of this story. I hope if you read this at any point, you understand how grateful I am. And Sofia for your kindness and support too and anyone and everyone who encouraged me here and elsewhere.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this story. Leaving kudos and such wonderful kind comments. Wouldn't have been able to complete this fic without them. xx
> 
> Oh god this is like Gwynneth Paltrow's cringy Oscar speech so I'll shut up. Please stay safe. Got a few ideas for long fics, feel free to PM though and I think I'll do some short fics as well, maybe even some follow ups to this? Most excitingly, it's finally time to READ lots of fics. (does happy dance) AND the return of OC and the rise of Upstead! Ok, really shutting up now, bye!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a kudos or dropping a comment and I will always reply xx


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